Of Poles and Promises
by Talwyn
Summary: Through no fault of her own Rachel finds herself surviving in New York rather than living, working a job she hates just to survive and praying that the people from her past, from her previous life, will never find out how far she's fallen. But Santana tracks her down and gives her a chance to reclaim her life and in the process maybe find someone she wants to spend that life with.
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: **So this is something I've been thinking about for a while, I've got a few chapters written for it so far but I don't know how often this will be updated since Undying Love will be the priority but assuming I have the time I'll be aiming for a once a week update for this story too. I'm not sure how long this one's going to be as I only have a plan for maybe half the story right now, so I guess we'll find out together.

Please do let me know what you think, you can review or private message me here or contact me via tumblr, see my profile for my tumblr link.

* * *

The music for the previous performer fades away and leaves Rachel standing in near silence behind the stage curtain waiting for her cue to go on. A familiar wave of nausea washes over the diva and she swallows the feeling down as she unconsciously runs her hands over her body smoothing down the material of her costume. She'd been performing here for nearly two years now and still it made her feel sick every time she had to step through that curtain, she thought she should have been past that by now.

She swallows thickly as her music starts, then positions her hands on the edge of the slightly frayed curtain preparing herself for what must come next. She takes a deep breath as the music reaches her cue and flips the curtain, stepping through exactly on time to be speared against the curtains by a large, very bright spotlight. One more deep breath and she opens her mouth…

And doesn't sing.

No one sings here, people don't come here to hear anyone sing. She supposes she could if she wanted to but without a microphone she would be lucky if her voice was audible to herself over the thumping of the sound system, even the people sitting right next to the stage wouldn't be able to hear her. No, instead she's expected to mime with the music track like all of the other performers, even if she could probably blow the bitch on the cd out of the water with her voice.

The nerves have gone, that's one good thing at least. When she's actually on the stage she usually doesn't feel anything except numbness and occasionally disgust, the only thing she's thinking about is getting the performance over and getting off the stage again. Feelings won't come back till later, hopefully when she's safely at home and alone where no one can see her weakness and where she can drown them in cheap booze.

Her eyes involuntarily land on the pole at the end of the stage and she starts the first section of her performance, the stalk towards the pole, her hips swaying in an exaggerated manner that's supposed to be attractive but Rachel thinks just looks stupid. She will spend the next fifteen minutes of her life dancing and slowly taking off her clothes for the entertainment of what is, in her opinion, the lowest form of life on the planet.

It doesn't escape her that this is exactly where she told a certain Latina that she would end up. God must have one hell of a sense of irony.

But the Latina didn't end up here, hidden in obscurity and on pretty much the lowest level of the social and employment ladders. Santana had been discovered after about six months in New York and a year later her first album pretty much went platinum as soon as it was released. Three and a half years and two more albums later and everyone knew who Santana Lopez was and what she looked like.

No one knows Rachel's name or her face. The performers here are all required to wear ornamental masks and to be honest the diva is a little thankful for that. She really does not want to be recognized for doing this particular job, which was is the reason she went to the effort of persuaded the owner to allow her to add a red wig to her mask. Technically they weren't supposed to wear wigs, a weird rule the owner had come up with, but when he'd liked the look on Rachel and gave her special permission.

Rachel hadn't kept in touch with Santana or many of the other Glee club members. She only really talked to Kurt and occasionally Quinn these days and she would never tell them the truth about what she was doing for her meager living, as far as they knew she was on an off-off-broadway play, still scraping a living but at least doing what she loved.

She hadn't done what she loved for a very long time.

Hell she hadn't done anything she vaguely liked in a very long time.

Tonight was ladies night at the club, a concept that Rachel had found rather odd in the beginning for a strip club. Why would women want to come and see another women strip? But then she thought of Santana and figured the Latina was the textbook answer to that question. The thought of a room full of people like her scared the diva just a little.

But ladies night had its advantages. For a start and for some reason she didn't understand, no women ever sat on the stools around the edge of the stage and with the spotlight blinding her to the rest of the club she could pretend she was alone in the room for a while instead of having to avoid the lustful stares and grabby hands of drooling imbeciles.

It also meant that she didn't have to perform any lap dances tonight; just her two stage performances and then she could escape this hellhole. Not that lap dances didn't happen on ladies night, it was just that she wasn't scheduled to do them. Sometimes she wondered if the woman would be any easier to dance for than some of the men, she'd heard they tend to tip more at least and they'd probably be less handsy. There is actually competition to be on lap dancing duty for ladies night.

And best of all she actually got to keep her thong on when she performed, though again this was something she didn't understand. She guessed that women preferred to leave something to the imagination, or at least her boss thought that women preferred that, not that he'd actually have a clue. But at least that meant she didn't spend the last few minutes of the show wearing only white knee-highs, penny loafers, her mask and a very, very fake smile.

Ah yes, her costume. One of the very first things she'd be told when she got this "job" was that she'd need to come up with a costume that the clientele liked. After a few abortive attempts she had been sitting at one of the makeup tables looking at a Glee club photo and wondering where her life had gone so wrong that she couldn't even get this right. The boss had looked over her shoulder curious to see what was holding the little diva's attention and suggested she should try the outfit she was wearing in the photo.

So her costume consists of an animal knit sweater, short argyle skirt and white knee high socks with penny loafers and, probably the worst part as far as Rachel is concerned, a lollipop to suck on when she wasn't syncing to song lyrics. The only difference between then and now was what she wore underneath, white cotton panties and a plain bra wouldn't go down very well around here. Sadly the costume had been a surprising success which had just made Rachel feel faintly sick and reminded her of Santana's comments about how she dressed so many years ago.

The sweater came off first followed a few minutes later by the skirt, both receiving whoops from the crowed. Her routine had her spending some time on the pole now and while it was difficult to play to a crowed she couldn't see and really didn't give a damn about, she does her best because her boss will dock her pay if he thinks she's not enthusiastic enough.

Like she's ever enthusiastic.

Her bra comes off about half way through her performance and that receives some cheers and a few whistles and then she's counting the seconds until she can collect her clothes and get off the damn stage. She's at the hardest part of her performance now, the part that makes her feel the dirtiest, but if she wants to keep this job she has no choice. She has to touch herself, play with her breasts and nipples until they are hard, even slide her hand between her legs a few times, though thankfully she doesn't have to go inside. But at least she still has the thong on covering her hand, unlike other nights where the men sit around the stage with their mouths open and drool literally running down their chins.

She doesn't particularly want to keep this job, but in her head there are just two choices if she manages to get herself fired from a place like this, starvation or prostitution and she's much rather touch herself than let others touch her or do worse. So she dances on the poll, takes off her clothes, touches herself for other people's pleasure while trying to avoid throwing up over everyone and fantasizes about taking a ten pound sledge hammer to the testicles of every man sitting around the stage.

Her performance ends with a round of applause and some wolf whistles and she's already pulling the sweater over her head before she's even back through the curtains. She feels the nausea returning already and she would really prefer to get home before she had to throw up, or at least get out of the building. So she changes as quickly as she can, hanging her costume on its hangers before making a break for the side exit. She pauses once she's outside, taking a deep breath of glorious fresh(ish) New York air and letting her stomach settle a little before she turns to start her walk to the subway.

"I thought that was you Hobbit."

That was all it took to cause Rachel to bend over and empty what little there was in her stomach against the side if the building. She had dreaded this moment, hoped it would never happen and actually had nightmares about it, night after night waking up in a cold sweat with dread and foreboding clawing at her heart. She had been betting that in a city of over eight million people, the chances of it actually happening was non-existent.

It looks like she lost that bet.

In her dream it was Santana, Quinn, Mercedes or sometimes Kurt. On one crushing occasion that left her curled up in bed weeping for days it was her fathers. But someone from her past would see her and recognize her and then everyone would know what she had been reduced to.

"Rachel? You okay?"

She hears Santana's steps as the Latina cautiously walks over to her and there's no way in hell Rachel wants to talk to the Latina, so she does the only thing she can do, she runs. The sidewalk is only a few yards away and a cab happens to be passing and stops when Rachel throws out her hand. The diva dives in to the back seat and shouts her address to the driver who thankfully pulls away before Santana can catch up in, Rachel is sure, her expensive heels.

She can't really afford a taxi all the way home, not if she wants to eat for the rest of the week, but she's too thrown by the encounter with Santana to be able to make it home on the subway and so she slumps in the back of the cab watching New York pass by and doesn't even realise she has been silently crying until her view of the city blurs behind the tears.

At one point she catches a glimpse of Broadway which just makes her want to throw up again.

They eventually reach her building and the fare manages to pretty much clean her out as she expected, she's got basically five bucks to do her to the end of the week when she'll get paid again. At least she has a card for the subway.

She climbs the five flights of stairs to her efficiency apartment, the elevator is once again broken, rips off the overdue rent notice pinned to her door and sighs in relief as she closes and locks the door behind her before slumping against it for a moment. After a few minutes she manages to push herself up and strips out of her clothes before heading in to her shower to spend about twenty minutes under the weak and lukewarm stream of water trying in vain to scrub her body clean of the dirty and disgusting feeling she always had after work. It doesn't work of course, it never works and in the end she dries herself off and collapses naked into bed.

The tears haven't stopped, but now she's at home where she can't be seen it doesn't matter anymore. There are only two ways she spends her evenings after work these days anyway, either crying herself to sleep or drinking enough cheap whiskey or vodka until she blacks out. She reaches out for the half empty bottle of Jack Daniels Old No 7 she had bought when she decided to get something decent for a change and twisted off the top of the bottle.

Tonight was definitely a drinking night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note:** Since I've gotten such positive feedback for this story I thought I'd give you the second chapter now rather than wait till next week. This is the same day from Santana's point of view.

* * *

_Earlier that day._

Santana couldn't suppress the shudder that travelled down her spine as she stepped out of her car and looked up at the building before her. It doesn't look all that different from the ones around it except for the garish fluorescent logos that adorn the front and the painted over windows. And yet standing before that building Santana swears she can feel a dark malaise seemingly seeping out of the very structure to engulf anyone passing by.

The Latina is having serious second thoughts about this and she might have returned to her car except for two things. First, if the investigator had been right Rachel seriously needed her help and while she might not fall into the friends category she is definitely covered by the 'no one left behind' category in Santana's mind. And the second reason, well her car has already driven away as per her instructions to the driver.

So instead she straightens her aviator sunglasses, takes a steadying breath and walks towards the open door of the building. An electronic sign bolted to the wall next to the door proclaims ladies night and Santana is happy to see the investigator has gotten that correct at least. But if that's correct then will the rest of what she had found out be accurate too?

Santana really couldn't believe that all of this came from a simple and unexpected desire to catch the show that Rachel was supposedly performing in. When the diva hadn't shown Santana had asked around and came away with more questions than she started with and a slight worry that Rachel appeared to be missing. The director of the show hadn't recognized Rachel's name or the photo the Latina had managed to find in a Facebook album.

Over the next few days that worry grew. Was Rachel a Jane Doe in a hospital or a morgue somewhere? Had she been hurt or even killed and no one knew? Worse had she hurt herself deliberately? Eventually the Latina had called Quinn back to check she had gotten the details of the show correct, which she had, and find out when the blonde had last talked to Rachel. Santana was surprised to find that she was very relieved to find that the two had a short conversation only a few days previously.

Quinn had figured something was going on and with very little effort had gotten the truth out of Santana. The blonde had immediately tried to call Rachel only to find her mobile and home phone numbers were out of service which explained why Rachel usually called her when they were supposed to talk, giving the excuse that her schedule was full of practices and performances and it was just easier for Rachel to do the calling.

Santana had made the rounds of many of the off-off-broadway and off-broadway shows trying in vain to find any hint of the girl but the best she could come up with was Rachel performing at auditions two to three years ago. Checking with the superintendent at her last known apartment block revealed that Rachel had left with little notice and eventually Santana had gotten to the point of hiring a private investigator when she ran out of ideas.

Surprisingly it hadn't taken the investigator long. A little under a week later she had shown up at Santana's door with a thin file containing everything she had found out, and that file had led Santana here. Her relief that Rachel was actually alive and well had been short lived when she had read what the diva was doing for a living. She hadn't believed it at first and still couldn't believe it to be honest, but if it were correct, if Rachel was working here, then she needed help and for reasons Santana didn't fully understand she couldn't walk away and leave her.

"Are you coming in or what?" A gruff voice demands.

The voice of the guy on the door snaps Santana out of her contemplation and she realizes that she's been standing on the steps staring blankly up at the building for an indeterminate amount of time. She climbs the remainder of the steps only to find her progress blocked by the same goon.

"Twenty dollars."

"What?"

"Cover fee." He grunts.

Santana rolls her eyes and produces a twenty dollar bill which disappears into a cash box on a small table next to the entrance.

"And I.D."

Santana sneers at the trained monkey and raises an eyebrow, "Seriously?" When he nods she reaches into her purse and pulls out a one hundred dollar bill, the last thing she needs right now is someone with a single digit IQ eyeballing her I.D. because god knows what would get back to the press. She holds up the folded note between two fingers and waves it under his nose, "Ben Franklin says you don't need to see my I.D."

It seems to take the guy and age to work out what she means and then even longer for him to decide if he's going to accept the bribe, but then the folded bill disappears into a pocket and a jerk of the trained monkeys head gives her access to the club. Santana steps forward through the swing doors into the main body of the club.

Her impression of the place does not improve.

It's dark for a start except for a bright spotlight trained on the dancer currently on the stage, not Rachel Santana decides after a moments consideration, and honestly that's probably a good thing because whoever designed this place didn't have much in the way of taste. Or apparently know the meaning of the word subtlety.

The first thing anyone will notice on entering the room is the stage, extending from the back wall to pretty much the middle of the room in the shape of, well there's no other description except for a certain piece of male anatomy. The stage projects out like a runway to a budging rounded tip where a dance pole rises up to the ceiling. Two more rounded areas on either side of the stage where it meets the back wall also have poles and provide the balls to the main stage's cock.

Santana can't help but roll her eyes.

There are chairs of various types scattered apparently randomly around the room, sometimes singly, sometimes in pairs or groups and occasionally surrounding a small round table with a pole rising up out of it. There is an area to Santana's left that appears to be a VIP zone, or what small excuse this club has for one, where the floor is raised a foot or so up from level with a few steps leading up to it. The seating there seems to be rather fancier than the rest of the club and better maintained, but the area is empty and cordoned off at the moment.

About half of the groups of seating contain women, either on their own or in groups. Some of them just talking and drinking and some of them are receiving dances from scantily clad dancers. Santana is a little surprised at some of the women she sees here, there are certainly some that seem to be more sophisticated that you'd expect in a place like this. One group is louder and more boisterous than the others and from the weird outfits Santana takes them for a bachelorette party and so she deliberately finds free table on the far side of the club from them.

Almost as soon as she sits a waiter is at her elbow and she has to admit they seem to know what the word service means in this place, though that thought does make her cringe. Her drink comes fast enough though and as she sips she takes a moment to survey the girls she can see dancing. It doesn't take long for her to decide that Rachel isn't among them but what she does see worries her. A lot of them look too thin and she can tell they are pale even in this darkness and Santana thinks one or two may even be high.

Santana can only hope that Rachel hasn't fallen into those particular bad habits yet.

It only takes a few moments before she's approached by the first wandering dancer which doesn't really surprise her, that's probably how they make most of their money anyway. She sends the first two away without blinking but when she looks up at the third she feels like her heart has stopped beating. Brittany? Could Brittany really be here dancing in a place like this without the Latina knowing? But that's ridiculous, Santana had just spoken to Britt a few days ago via Skype and she was in LA working on a routine for a music video.

But then she had also thought Rachel was performing in a musical.

"You want a dance honey?" the blonde asks.

Santana breathes a sigh of relief because while this girl looks like Britt, her voice is totally different. This is someone Santana doesn't know, just the doppelganger of one of her best friends. But still the dancer looks like Britt and for some reason the Latina can't just send her away, so instead she nods and gives the girl a fifty when she asks for twenty dollars and almost jumps out of her skin when the blonde makes as if she's going to sit in Santana's lap.

"No!" Santana blurts trying to push the dancer away without actually touching her, "Um, I meant on the table" she manages to recover pointing at the small round table set near the chair she's sitting in, "Is that okay?"

"You just had to ask babe." The dancer says before turning to climb up onto the table to start gyrating on the pole.

Now the blonde is at a safe distance Santana manages to relax and actually watches her dance. She's not as good as Britt is, that particular blonde could probably make everyone within fifty yards orgasm just by wrapping her legs around the pole, but she has some skills and the Latina has to admit she finds the display entertaining. That is until the girl's crop top hits her in the face.

"I'm looking for someone." Santana says out of nowhere.

"Aren't we all honey" the dancer says as her shorts land on Santana's lap, "But I don't swing that way. Sorry."

"No, I mean someone in particular." She produces the photo she had blown up and cropped from a Glee club photo, "This was taken a few years ago, but I'd be surprised if she's changed much."

The dancer glances at the photo as she drops her bra onto Santana's lap, "What is she to you?"

"A friend."

"Uh-huh." The dancer seems to be examining Santana closely as she dances around the pole, "Let me guess Miss Lopez, you just found out she's working at this dump and came to sweep her away to a better life."

Santana's eyes widen when she realizes she's been recognized and she glances around nervously not sure if she's looking for an escape or to see if anyone else heard.

"Don't worry" The dancer says with a smile, "I won't tell anyone your here."

Santana nods and swallows, "She's not supposed to be working in a place like this; she has real talent that can take her places. So yeah, if she's here I want to help her."

The dancer has stopped dancing and is examining the Latina closely, "Well, for her sake I hope you're for real and not some nutcase."

"So she's here?"

"Yeah and she hasn't changed one little bit, literally. Same outfit though she wears a red wig when she dances." The dancer says, "She only does stage dances on ladies night though, she's not been here long enough to work the floor."

"When will she be on?"

The dancer turns to look at the stage then jumps down to sit on the table as she starts getting dressed again. "After she's done" she says referring to the dancer, "Your girl will be on in half an hour." The dancer stands to walk away, "Good luck."

"Wait" Santana calls her back and produces a one hundred dollar bill, "How about another dance?"

* * *

Santana's heart is in her throat when Rachel is due to walk out on to the stage. The music kicks in, there's movement at the curtains and a spotlight snaps on and pins a girl against the curtains. There is no doubt in Santana's mind that this is Rachel and she feels sick to her stomach when she sees what the girl is wearing, the blonde dancer had been right, it was like seeing Rachel from high school up on the stage. She really doesn't want to watch but she can't seem to drag her eyes away from the scene before her, watching as the diva marches down the runway to swing around the pole at the end.

The first thing Santana notices after Rachel's costume is that the diva is faking it. She looks happy, smiling as she sings along to the music and dances up and down the stage, but Santana is surprised to find that she can read the girl better than she thought and recognizes the tension in the way she holds her body, the fakeness behind the smile and the dead look in her eyes.

Santana feels her heart ache for the girl.

The Latina is actually relieved when Rachel steps back through the curtain and off of the stage. She's spent the last few minutes since Rachel took off her bra mentally begging the girl not to take off her thong and had almost thrown up when she saw the diva slide her hand underneath the thin material while she gazed out over the crowd with a blank expression. Santana sits there for a minute trying to collect herself before she realizes that Rachel might already be heading to the side exit and the next moment she is out the main door and halfway down the alleyway next to the building.

She had just stepped in to the shadows at the end of the alley when the side door swings open and Rachel steps out. The diva lets the door slam shut behind her and seems to pause to take a couple of deep breaths.

"I thought that was you Hobbit."

Santana had been ready pretty much for any reaction, from a straight up dash for freedom to an ear blasting from Rachel's rape whistle or even a face full of mace. She wasn't ready for the girl to bend over at the waist and empty her stomach over the side of the building.

"Rachel? You okay?"

That's when Rachel did her impression of a rabbit and makes a dash for it. Santana hadn't been expecting that anymore and the diva had managed to get half way down the alley before the Latina started moving. But all Santana could do was look on in anguish as a cab seems to appear out of nowhere when Rachel throws out her arm and the diva dives in to the back. Once Santana reaches the sidewalk, the cab is nowhere to be seen.

Santana pulls out her phone with a sigh and hits the speed dial. The call is answered almost immediately.

"Did you find her?" Quinn asks.

"Yes."

There is a pause then Quinn asks, "Is she okay? Is she safe?"

Santana stands looking in the direction that the cab had left in, "I really don't know Q."

Another pause, longer this time. "I'll be in New York the day after tomorrow."

There is a click before the lines goes dead.


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: **Thank you all for the reviews, I'm glad your all loving the story. I also just want to point out that I'm not planning an epic length story here like TRC or Undying Love, so you might occasionally think things are moving too fast, but hopefully everything will flow well for you all.

* * *

The sun sneaked through the small gap between the cheap curtains covering the only window in the apartment and burns through Rachel's eyelids until she finally wakes with a groan only to roll over and bury her head in her pillow. Her head was thumping as it always did after a drinking night, but she had become so used to the pain that she could tolerate a lot more than she used to. Still she reaches for and finds the pain killers sitting on the improvised bedside cabinet and dry swallows two before returning to hiding in her pillow and waiting for the little white pills to take effect.

There is a banging on her door an indeterminate amount of time later and the voice of the building superintendent can be heard calling through the door. He's looking for her rent again and she lays quiet on her bed and ignores him, hoping this isn't the day he'll decide to use his master key to open the door and drag her out of the apartment. But it looks like there is some luck on her side because after a few more thumps at her door his footsteps can be heard retreating down the stairs and silence falls again.

No doubt she'll find another demand pinned to her door later on today.

She manages to flip on the television and pays absolutely no attention to the reality shows and other crap that parades across the screen until it is time for her to head out to work. Her last five dollars is spent at McDonald's on a cheeseburger, fries and a milkshake. She's long ago given up being a vegan since all the cheap food, the stuff that she can still afford, is all made for meat eaters these days. Not that McDonald's is food, well not good food anyway, and she's pretty sure the only reason she hasn't ended up putting on a lot of weight is due to how infrequently she eats and how often her work causes her to throw up.

Her remaining few cents goes into her pocket and Rachel hopes she gets a good tipper tonight otherwise she's going to be very hungry for a few days. Not that she isn't used to going hungry, but the last time she fainted on the stage the boss threatened to fire her if it happened again cementing Rachel's opinion that he was one evil bastard. Maybe if he actually paid them enough to survive on then things like that wouldn't happen in the first place but it is not like she's going to get anything other than fired if she complains.

She sits in her usual spot in the park across town from the club for a while. She comes here to get away from her claustrophobic apartment and the hell that is the club. This place, sitting on a bench out in the fresh air and the sun, is a refuge for the diva, a place where she can just for a few minutes forget about the torment of her life, forget about what could have been, forget about what she has been reduced to just to survive and just live and breathe and exist.

But time will never stop passing and soon Rachel has to leave for the club. She hopes that Santana won't show up tonight, that the Latina will just forget about her and get on with her own life but in her heart she knows that its more likely that she will turn up, even if only to laugh at the diva. But Rachel can't miss a night's work right now, if she could she wouldn't be doing this job and at least if Santana causes a scene the bouncers will get rid of her and if she just sits and watches then Rachel will just ignore her.

She gets off of the subway at the nearest station to the club and walks the last block and a half to get there, each step adding to the familiar feeling of nausea that fills her stomach. But today she manages to keep control of herself even when she makes it into the changing room and collects her costume from its place on the rack. She has two performances again tonight, the first pretty early on in the night and the second about last in the running order and in between she's expected to don thong, bra, tiny sequin shorts and transparent crop top and ply her trade out of the floor trying to make customers pay her for a lap dance.

The first performance goes well enough all things considered. It is early enough that there aren't too many mouth breathers on the stools around the stage and those that are seem happy enough just to sit and watch. But it is worse than last night too because by the end of her performance she's naked and there's nothing to hide her hand from staring eyes as it slides between her legs.

The diva can't help but field relieved when she can step behind the curtain again and she takes a few minutes to allow her stomach to settle before she changes into her other outfit and heads out into the club to tout her wares. Lap dancing means she's closer to the clientele than on stage so she has to watch out for wandering hands and other things, but it also means she keeps her thong on no matter what, the only place girls get naked in this club is on the stage, thank god.

Finding people what want to pay her to dance for them is never that tricky, with her naturally tan skin, shorter stature and red wig she stands out amongst the leggy blondes that seem to be the mainstay of the club and so Rachel managed to find takers for about a dozen lap dances before trouble happens. She even gets some decent tips which means she won't be hungry for the rest of the week, either that or she can go get some more liquor to help her sleep at night. Liquor to forget just for a little while or food so she isn't hungry, it's going to be a close call.

But for the first time ever she has a problem client, two of them actually, one after the other which was just fucking typical. One guy pulls out his cock and starts jerking off as soon as the dance starts and the other ignores the look but don't touch rules and tries to push his hand into her thong when she gets close enough. The bouncers are good here though, that's one thing that can be said for the club, and before anything can seriously happen the two assholes are dragged out the side door where, Rachel is led to believe, they will be taught how to behave by having the shit kicked out of them.

They whole thing leaves her feel more dirty and disgusting than normal and so, after the second event, she retreats behind the stage to the changing room to wait out the time before it is once again her time to go on. This is where one of the bouncers finds her a quarter of an hour later to hand her four hundred and fifty dollars, the contents of the two jerks wallets that the bouncers had emptied after they had dealt with the wallet's owners. It just makes her feel nauseous again but she's not in the position to turn down the cash, so she takes four hundred dollars and leave the bouncers the other fifty to split between them. These guys keep her safe so it's always best to keep on their good side.

Thankfully her final performance of the day passes without incident, though she thinks there was one guy jerking off at the side of the stage, but as long as he kept it below the edge of the stage and she could keep away from him, she is beyond caring. She changes quickly and is about to step out of the side door when she remembers who was waiting for her the previous night and so searches out one of the bouncers to check the alleyway that stretches from the door to the sidewalk for anyone waiting.

The all clear given Rachel quickly makes for the subway station and home. It is only when she's standing outside her apartment ripping yet another late rent notice off the door that she realizes she didn't stop at the liquor store on the way home and there was nothing left in the apartment that she could use to drown her sorrows tonight. She considered descending the stairs again or trying to borrow something from a neighbor, even though she doesn't actually know anyone else who lives in this building, but discards the idea quickly. All she really wants to do is climb in to her shower and scrub herself raw.

She locks the door behind her and makes straight for the shower, this time spending half an hour under the weak spray but still not feeling much better than when she stepped in. She's drying her hair with the towel as she steps out of the bathroom to find someone sitting on the edge of her bed. Her body makes to run, naked or not the need to escape from this stranger invading her space is overwhelming, but when the stranger speaks, Rachel finds herself rooted to the spot.

"Hello again Hobbit."

"How did you get in here?" Rachel demands though only really for something to say.

"Quinn taught me to pick locks a long time ago Tiny and that thing is pretty much a joke" she says gesturing to the door to Rachel's apartment. Her gaze lingers on Rachel's naked form for a few moments to long before she looks away, "Are you going to get dressed or what?"

"You were at the club last night weren't you?" Rachel asks to receive a nod from Santana, "So you've paid to see me naked already."

Rachel throws herself onto her bed behind Santana, she just doesn't care anymore. She doesn't feel nauseous, she doesn't feel the creeping dirtiness that always accompanies her home from work, she doesn't feel the dread of another day at the club or of anyone from her past finding out, she just feels numb. Because the worst has already happened, Santana knows and soon everyone from her past will know. She expects she'll see a parade of ex-friends and enemies through the club now, all coming to see what she has been reduced to.

She might even have to dance for some of them.

"Why couldn't you just leave me alone Santana?" If she could feel anything right now Rachel was pretty sure she'd be horribly embarrassed by how weak and whiny her voice sounded.

"You know that's not what I do Midget."

"No, you torment and tease and frustrate and make people's lives a living hell just because it amuses you" Rachel says, her face buried in her pillow and her voice totally void of emotion, "We'll here is a newsflash for you Satan, my life is already hell so there's pretty much nothing you can do to make it any worse. So why don't you just head back to your penthouse and expensive food and clothes and fake friends and just leave me alone."

There are a few moments of absolute silence, Rachel can't even hear the other girl breathe, and then a cell phone pings indicating a new text. There is some rustling of clothes, a few moments silence and then footsteps crossing to the door before it swings open and closes again. Rachel glances over her shoulder and she is relieved to find she is alone once again. She knew it wouldn't be that easy though, Santana was never one to give up on an easy target and Rachel considers that the Latina is probably just waiting for the best time to strike.

Except she doesn't remain alone in her apartment for very long, the door opens and closes again a few minutes later and the room fills with the smell of hot coffee and Chinese food.

"Are you not dressed yet?" Santana asks with an amused tone.

"I don't usually have many visitors at this time of night."

"Here, food. Eat."

Santana places large cup of coffee and some food containers on the bedside cabinet before sitting down on the side of the bed again to start digging in to her own food. There aren't any other seats in the small room.

"I'm not hungry" Rachel says but the smell filling the room causes her stomach to rebel and rumble loudly as she speaks.

"You haven't had anything since at least before you arrived at the club and I'm pretty sure you haven't been eating right for quite some time before that, so you're going to damn well eat that or I'll hold you down and force it down your throat myself. Your choice."

"Yeah, you'd enjoy that wouldn't you?" Rachel bitches.

But she sits up on her bed not bothering to try and cover herself and grabs the closest food container. They eat without talking for a while with just the sound of the occasional slurp of coffee to interrupt the silence and while she starts off reluctantly Santana is right, she hasn't really eaten properly in as long as she can remember and the Chinese food tastes better than anything she can remember. She finishes all her food before Santana has even gotten half way through hers but the Latina silently hands Rachel the remainder of her food and the diva eats that too. Once all the food is gone Rachel throws herself down on her bed again, this time face up.

"What are you doing Santana?" Rachel asks as she stares unfeeling at the cracked ceiling, "Are you just trying to make me feel a little better before you pull the rug out from under me again?" She's more curious than anything else right now, if she knows what's coming she might not feel as bad when it actually happens.

"Rach, what happened to you? This isn't where you are supposed to be, we both know that. You were bound for bigger things, for better things. You were going to be as successful as I am, it was obvious to everyone. So what happened?" Santana asks softly, "How did you end up here?"

Rachel can't help it, Santana sounds honestly concerned about her, something no one has been for what feels like a very long time and it feels like someone has just plunged a dagger through her heart. The Latina's words bring back all the hopes and dreams she had been suppressing for so long, all the expectations of friends and family and the reality of her current situation. She breaks down sobbing, crying harder than she has since the death of her parents only a few years ago.

A few moments later a warm pair of arms wrap around Rachel and Santana pulls the diva against her body, holding her as she shakes with each sob and gently stroking the diva's hair.

"I've got you Rach. Everything's going to be fine. I've got you."

Eventually the diva's breathing evens out and she falls asleep feeling relatively safe for the first time in years.


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: **So here we have Rachel's story, how do you think Santana is going to respond? Let me know what you think.

* * *

Rachel is woken the next morning by a repeated banging on her door and the voice of the building superintendent threatening to use his master key if she didn't open the door and pay her rent. Rachel ignores him, she doesn't have the money he wants anyway even with the four hundred dollars and other tips from last night, so she's going to end up on the sidewalk but she isn't going to make it easy for him.

She had forgotten that Santana had been in her apartment last night and she hadn't even realized that she was still safely wrapped up in the Latina's arms until they finally let her go, pulling the blankets on the bed up over her naked body. Rachel lies still hoping that Santana doesn't realize she's awake.

"Fuck Rach, how do you manage to sleep through that?" the Latina asks mainly to herself.

Rachel feels the bed shift as the Latina stands up, cloth rustling and heels clicking on the floor as she makes her way over to the door and throws it open.

"Who the fuck are you?" the superintendent demands.

"None of your fucking business." Santana says, "How much?"

"That fucking whore owes me two thousand dollars."

Rachel can't help but cringe, she hadn't realized it had gotten so bad but she's been living hand to mouth for so long recently it's a wonder she still has power and water in her apartment. Ironically this asshole has to be one of the better superintendents because she's pretty sure most would have thrown her out on her ass already. There's a pause as she hears Santana taking a few steps back into the apartment and she can almost feel the gaze of the slimy caretaker on her body.

"She asleep or what?" he asks apparently curious.

Rachel is pretty sure Santana has just spun on her heel and then rapid footsteps cross the room again until she thinks the Latina is standing between her and the door. When Santana speaks, Rachel's opinion is confirmed.

"Get your eyes off of her you creep. Here's your god damn money, now fuck off."

There's a sound of money being counted, of course the asshole would have to count it, and then a grunt.

"Fine. But if that bitch is even a day late again I'm kicking her ass out."

Rachel is pretty sure he's walking away at this point as she can hear his distinctive tread on the creaky floor boards, but Santana calls him back. She seems to walk out to meet him in the hall and then there's a thump, a grunt of anguish and a sound like a sack of potatoes hitting the ground. Rachel cracks an eye and sees the superintendent curled up on the floor with his hands between his legs and his eyes rolled up in pain.

"That's for calling my friend a whore and a bitch. She's worth a million times what you are so you can shut your fucking face." Santana gives him a kick in the stomach to go along with it, "And don't worry about the damn rent, she isn't going to be living in this shit hole for much longer if I can do anything about it."

Santana matches through the apartment door again and Rachel hastily shuts her eyes again. The door slams shut and Rachel hears the lock click before footsteps cross the room and Santana climbs back onto the bed behind Rachel, her arms going around the little diva's waist again. Rachel is astounded to hear the other girl start sniffing and feels the body pressed against her start to shake as the Latina cries for her friend.

* * *

She must have fallen asleep again because the next thing she knows she no longer has a body pressed against her back or arms wrapped around her waist. But the room is full of the smell of coffee and croissants and she can hear some very quiet noise from the television in the corner. She rolls over and sits up allowing the blankets that had been covering her to fall to her waist and spends a moment rubbing the sleep away from her eyes.

When she opens them again Santana's tan hand is offering her a Starbucks takeout cup full of hot coffee and some still warm croissants. Rachel slides herself up the bed until she's leaning against the headboard and accepts the food. Santana sits next to her and they both eat in silence occasionally glancing up to the television to have something other than each other to look at.

Breakfast, or rather lunch Rachel thinks as she notices the clock at the bottom of the television screen, over she drops the coffee cup and empty food wrapper onto the floor next to the bed with the intention of tidying them up later then folds her hands into her lap to wait for the questions she knows Santana will eventually ask. She isn't wrong.

"What happened Rachel?"

The diva shrugs, "It's a long story."

"I have all day." Santana replies with her usual stubbornness.

"How did you find out?" Rachel asks.

Santana looks at her for a while and seems to decide that if she's going to get her questions answered, she's going to have to answer some of Rachel's.

"Well I had some time on my hands here in New York and my friend Quinn, I think you might know her, told me about this show a friend of hers was in. So I figure I'll go and show a little support even if it is an off-off-Broadway show but imagine my surprise when I sit through what has to be the worst show in existence and I never saw the person I was there to support."

Santana breaks out her nail file and starts working on her nails, "So I figure maybe she's ill and her understudy had to step in, god she was awful enough that I'm surprised she got any role on the show, never mind the lead. But when I asked about you, the director didn't know your name and didn't recognise the photo of you I showed him, even if it was from a few years ago."

"So I started asking around, I mean with your kind of talent you should be pretty easy to track down, right? And I did find some people that remembered you from auditions a few years ago, but nothing recently. That's when I started to get worried."

"And you found me at the club how?"

"Private investigator." Santana says, "I don't know how she tracked you down, I never asked and knowing this particular person I'm pretty sure not all her methods are legal. But when I couldn't find you I called in some help and I didn't care what it took."

"Who else knows?"

"Quinn knows I couldn't find you and that I hired a private investigator. No one else knows anything yet." Santana answers. There's a pause then she asks "So what happened?"

Rachel sighs and rests her head back against the headboard and wonders if she should tell the Latina anything. Would Santana leave her alone if she told her nothing, would she get away with just part of the story or would it take her total humiliation to get rid of the Latina? In the end she decides she just doesn't care anymore, she'll tell the Santana everything because she's sure the other girl will just keep hounding her until she has it all anyway and this way she'll be left alone faster.

"My fathers died, that's when everything started to fuck up. About three years ago now in my second year at NYADA. It was a car crash. Dad died almost instantly, Daddy hung on a little but not for long enough for me to make it back to Lima to see him before he died too." Rachel breaks off because she's never actually talked to anyone about this before and those few words were harder to say than anything she had to do at the club.

"I heard" Santana says pulling one of the little diva's hands into her own, "I was on a tour so I couldn't get back but I sent flowers."

"I know, I saw them. Thank you."

"So what happened?" Santana asked when Rachel didn't immediately continue.

"My fathers' insurance covered their funerals, just. But the State of Ohio decided that I couldn't be the child of two men even if I had been legally adopted by both of them. They decided only the first man on the papers would be considered my parent and that was my Dad. When he died instantly his will left everything to Daddy and then Daddy died and that's where the problems started. Even though he left a will, the state won't allow his assets to be released to me, everything is still stuck in probate with the time ticking away. My fathers' lawyer is working on the case pro-bono in his spare time since he felt bad for me, but I haven't seen a cent yet."

Rachel pauses for a moment looking for a tissue to blow her nose with but only coming up with an empty box. Santana pulls a travel pack of tissues out of her purse and offers them to the diva who then blows her nose loudly.

"I dropped out of NYADA since I couldn't afford the tuition anymore and I needed to work anyway if I was to eat and keep my apartment. I got a job in a diner which was okay except for the meat, but it allowed me to work mornings and evenings and still go for auditions in the afternoon. That's when most of them happen you see."

Santana nods when Rachel pauses, "That worked for a while except that I wasn't offered any roles, I guess I was missing my fathers so much that it affected my performance. But then the anniversary of the accident came around and I just shut down. I didn't feel like doing anything, I couldn't do anything, I couldn't stop crying or even get out of bed except when I had to. It took me two or three weeks to actually pull myself back together again and when I finally went back to work I was told had been replaced and apparently the reason I hadn't been there didn't matter to them."

Rachel sniffs and wipes away the tears that had been flowing down her cheeks even though her voice had been steady throughout the explanation, "I literally begged them to give me another chance but they wouldn't. I tried to find another job but I couldn't even find anything at another diner. I realized I was going to lose the apartment so I managed to find somewhere cheaper, this place, and I sold pretty much everything that was worth anything so I could eat. And finally, just when I thought I was going to finally run out of money, I walked past the club and saw a recruitment sign outside."

She pauses to blow her nose again before continuing, "I thought I could work behind the bar or maybe waiting tables, but that wasn't what they were looking for. When they offered me a job I didn't really have a choice. If I said no I'd lose the apartment and have nothing to live on and I had no idea when I'd get another job. When you are only a day from losing everything you don't have much choice about what to do to earn money and I really didn't like the alternatives."

"But it's not enough is it?" Santana asks, "If the experience with your landlord is anything to go by."

"Sometimes it's okay, I get a basic pay but most of what I earn are made up of tips and things have been slow recently."

"Do you like working there?"

"I've worked there for two years now and I've hated every second." Rachel snaps angrily, wondering how anyone could even think it possible to enjoy the job she has to do, "I come home and scrub myself every night but I never feel clean, I'm lucky if I can keep a meal down on the days I work and I usually end up either crying myself to sleep or drinking myself into oblivion." She swings her arm gesturing to the empty bottles that cover many of the flat surfaces in the room. She slides back down in the bed and buries her face in her pillow, "How can you think anyone would like it?" she asks quietly.

She feels the bed move as Santana climbs to her feet and then the noise of footsteps crossing the room, "So that's it then?" Rachel asks bitterly, despair seeping into her tone even though she had thought she had prepared herself for this, "You've got the whole story now and now you're off to gloat, to let everyone know how low I've fallen?"


	5. Chapter 5

There's a moment of silence before Santana responds, "I'm going to ignore that comment because you are obviously not your normal self."

There is more movement, a scraping noise, a thump and the bed bounces as something lands upon it. Rachel opens her eyes just in time to see Santana opening the bright pink case that is about all she owns from her previous life.

"What are you doing?" Rachel asks as she pushes herself up on one elbow.

"Packing." Santana says with a roll of her eyes as if the answer was obvious.

Rachel huffs and falls back onto the bed, "Why? I don't have anywhere else to go Santana. This is it for me."

"You're coming with me." Santana says in a tone that brooks no argument.

"What?"

"You're coming with me. You'll move in to my apartment and go back to NYADA to finish your degree. I'll get you a lawyer that has a clue and get your parents stuff out of limbo and then you're going to end up on Broadway where you belong."

"I don't need your charity Santana." Rachel replies

"God damn it Rachel, will you look at where you are living and what you are doing for a job?!" Santana snaps back and Rachel can't help but cower a little as she recognizes the old Head Bitch Santana coming to the fore even if there was the glitter of unshed tears in her eyes, "If anyone needs charity right now it's you, wake up and smell the damn coffee."

Santana sighs and takes a few calming breaths, "Look, if our places were reversed would you leave me like this? I'm pretty sure the Rachel Berry I remember would be on my case every fucking day until I either agreed or she called Quinn to smack some sense into me and drag me out of this dump by my hair."

Rachel slams the case closed again, almost catching Santana's hand in the process as the Latina was dumping some clothes into it, but she manages to pull her hand back just in time. "Don't you think I should have some choice in my future?!" she demands.

"You haven't had a choice in years. You've been through hell Rach, you've survived more than most people would be able to and honestly that is impressive. You've done what you needed to do to survive, but that's all you've done, survive." Santana sighs again and rubs a hand over her eyes.

"You want a choice, well here it is. You can stay here in this dump, keep doing a job you hate and living hand to mouth until you are too old for scumbags to be willing to pay to watch you to strip and touch yourself and then what? Turning tricks on the street corner? Liver failure because of all this alcohol, or maybe starvation because you can't stop throwing up?"

"Or you can come with me and get your life back on track, get back to where you are supposed to be, get a job you actually love and the respect and recognition you actually deserve, collect that EGOT you wanted so badly back in high school and get back to living rather than just surviving." Santana drops to her knees next to the bed and pulls Rachel's hands into her own, "I just can't leave you here Rachel. I can't leave you just surviving like this so please let me help you. Please."

Rachel's head drops to her chest and her eyes fill with tears; "I didn't want this to happen" she finally managed.

"No one would Rach, but we can change things now if you'll come with me. I promise I'll help you get back on your feet and back to the life you are supposed to have." Santana says softly pulling the diva into a hug, "Will you come with me? Will you let me help you?"

All Rachel can do is nod against Santana's shoulder and the Latina breathes a sigh of relief, holding the diva for a few minutes before letting go and returning to packing.

"Okay, let's get you packed."

Santana buzzes around the room emptying drawers and the closet into first the pink suitcase then two other holdalls that a strange man brings to the door in response to a quick telephone call as Rachel sits on the bed and watches. Within ten minutes everything that Santana can find is packed and the three bags are sitting by the door, Santana standing next to them with her hand on the doorknob.

"Are you coming?" she asks.

"Umm Santana, you packed everything." Rachel says

"Yeah, and?"

"Well, I'm still kind of naked here." Rachel says gesturing to herself.

"Umm, yeah."

Santana had gotten so used to Rachel's apparent unashamed nakedness in the past few hours that in the rush to get everything packed and get the diva out of there and somewhere better for her health she had completely forgotten that she was sitting naked in her bed. She opens the pink suitcase and pulls out a sweatshirt, matching sweatpants and a pair of sneakers and tosses them onto the bed. She's still looking for underwear when Rachel speaks.

"Don't worry, these will do."

Santana glances up just in time to see Rachel standing beside the bed and pulling the sweat pants up over her hips before the top goes over her head and she steps into the sneakers. Santana closes the suitcase again and Rachel joins her by the door, making to pick up the holdalls.

"Hold on" Santana says before opening the door.

The man that brought the holdalls is still standing outside with his back to the door but he turns when it opens. He takes the holdalls at Santana's request and heads down stairs as the Latina hefts the suitcase.

"Ready?" she asks.

"What about the rest of this stuff?" Rachel asks.

"Is there anything you want to keep?" Santana asks looking a little dubious.

Rachel looks around the room and for the first time in a long time actually takes in where she has been living. There's a shabby chest of drawers, a battered closet, a television that was well past its best, the improvised bedside cabinet and her bed. There really isn't much worth keeping.

"I'll need a bed." She says.

"I've got beds Rach, better ones than that I promise."

Rachel takes one more look around the room and nods, "Let's go."

When they make it down stairs, Santana glaring at the building super as they passed him on the stairs, Rachel found the stranger that had taken the two holdalls from her room standing next to a black towncar with heavily tinted windows and looking around as if he was on guard. When he sees the girls step out of the building he immediately opens the rear door and takes the suitcase from Santana, closing the door behind them and depositing the suitcase into the truck with the holdalls before slipping into the driver's seat and smoothly pulling away from the curb.

Rachel watches out of the window and is surprised to find she doesn't feel anything at all as her old apartment building disappears behind them.

Rachel spends the drive across New York staring out of the window and wondering why she was trusting the other girl. In the diva's experience, Santana had never really done anything nice for her. Sure they had sort of become friends at the end of High School but even then the Latina had spent more time teasing her, calling her names and playing pranks on her than anything else. Though granted that covered Santana's behavior at the time to pretty much anyone that wasn't Brittany.

She glances across at the other girl who is also staring out of her window apparently deep in thought and Rachel can't help but wonder what is going on in the other girls head. Was she planning some massive prank? Dragging her out of her sorry excuse for a life, give her a little hope only to throw her back when it would be the most amusing for her? Rachel sighs quietly as she turns back to stare out of her window and decides she's just going to have to protect herself, to prepare herself for the worst.

Their journey ends in Manhattan, turning into the basement parking lot of a mid-size building that still towered over all the buildings around it. It was a modern building and looked purpose built what put it a little at odds with the rest of the neighborhood, but what caught Rachel's eye was the group of people with cameras that appeared to be hanging around outside the main door.

"Paparazzi" Santana said with a sneer as the car pulled in to the underground parking lot.

They climb out of the car and Rachel is surprised when Santana doesn't make to get the luggage from the trunk of the car, but instead they head across the garage and take an elevator up to the top floor of the building and Santana unlocks one of the apartment doors, leading them both inside.

"Who are they here for?" Rachel asks after a few moments of silence, just really for something to say.

"Me." Santana says as she crosses the living area to throw herself down on the sofa, "I've been staying under their radar for a while now and they are starting to get curious."

"You?!" Rachel can't help but blurting, the surprise evident in her voice.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence Berry." Santana says turning round to look at the diva who was still standing by the door, "I am a platinum selling recording artist you know. And are you going to stand there all night or what?"

Rachel crosses the room to perch on the front of the couch, "I'm sorry, I guess I forgot that some of us actually became successful."

There is regret in Rachel's tone that causes Santana's chest to ache, but she knows the regret is for the diva's own lack of success rather than having anything to do with Santana's success. There is a knock on the apartment door just as Santana is about to reply and the opening door relieves the driver with Rachel's luggage.

Santana takes the holdalls and nods towards the suitcase, "Grab that shortstack, it's time for the grand tour."

Rachel had already seen the living area and the kitchen and dining room that were just off of it. Santana leads her down a corridor and nods her head towards a closed door indicating it was her bedroom. The door opposite is opened to show a large, fully fitted bathroom then Santana drops the bags outside another door before stepping across the corridor to open another door.

"Music room." Santana says allowing Rachel to see the instruments and music books scattered around the room, "And it's soundproofed so if you want to sing anywhere other than the shower, this is the place."

Rachel nods and Santana opens the door she had placed the bags outside of, "This will be your room. Quinn usually uses it when she's here but she'll have to make do with one of the guest rooms on the other side of the apartment."

Rachel follows Santana into the room and her eyes widen as she looks around. The room is bigger than her old apartment, the massive bed that makes up the centerpiece of the room is definitely a lot better than the bed she had left behind. The chest of drawers, bedside tables, vanity, office desk and various chars scattered around the room all match the bed. A door on one side of the room leads into a walk in closet while another on the opposite wall reveals an en-suit bathroom. There is a large television mounted on one wall where it can be watched comfortably either from the bed or from the upholstered window seat and a sound system rests on top of the chest of drawers.

Santana had placed the holdalls on a chest that stood at the foot of the bed and watched as Rachel took in the room with wide eyes. "So" she asks for some reason a little nervously, "What do you think?"

"You want me to stay here?" Rachel asks in surprise.

"What, you think I'd make you sleep on the sofa?"

"It's just so… perfect."

"It's just a bedroom." Santana shrugs and turns to leave, "Make yourself at home."

"Could I…" Rachel blurts, "Um, it's just I haven't had a chance to soak in a tub for a while, I only had a shower at my apartment…"

Santana nods and leads Rachel out of the bedroom to show here were the towels were stored, passing her a couple of large fluffy towels and a just as fluffy robe in the process.

"Use whatever you want from the bathroom, most of my stuff is in my en-suite, but add anything you want to the shopping list in the kitchen."

Rachel nods and steps into the bathroom. Just as she's about to shut the door, Santana calls to her.

"And Rach, this is your home now. You don't need to ask to use the tub."

* * *

Santana was back on the sofa with her feet up a few minutes later when someone knocks on the door again. Recognizing the knock Santana shouts "Its open" and a moment later Quinn barrels in, dropping her bags by the door and throwing herself down on the sofa next to Santana.

"Okay so tell me everything you know. You said you found her so where is she? What's she doing? Why has she been lying to me? …"

Quinn continued the rapid fire questions until Santana actually managed to interrupt her, "Anyone one would think you had a thing for the midget" she observes with a smirk.

"You know I'm seeing someone in LA Santana" Quinn rolls her eyes at Santana suggestion, "I just need to know she's okay and I need to know why she didn't come to me for help when she needed it. I thought we were friends."

"And you still won't tell me who he is." Santana says, one eyebrow raised questioningly. When Quinn just shakes her head Santana sighs, "All you need to know about Berry right now is that she's safe and soaking in my tub."

Santana hadn't gotten the sentence fully out when Quinn had shot up from the sofa and dashed off to the bathroom that she knew contained the only tub in the apartment and when the Latina made it to the bathroom door she found a surprised looking and very naked Rachel half dragged out of the tub and being rocked back and forth slightly in the blondes arms as water slops all over the floor.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: **Okay, so I've been updating a little faster than I had intended but from now on we'll be going to once a week since I now actually have to write both Of Poles And Promises and Undying Love within the same week.

I'm also going to start using some character names from Season 4 for... we'll you'll see. Hopefully it won't be too confusing!

* * *

"Awww Q, you're all wet for me." Santana smirks as she looks the blonde up and down after Rachel manages to detach herself from Quinn with the promise of telling her everything once she's done with her bath, "Nice panties by the way."

Quinn glances down at herself and rolls her eyes. The water from Rachel's bath had soaked the front of her dress making it clingy and semi-transparent. "I'm seeing someone."

"And I don't believe he exists!" Santana shouts after the blonde as she grabs her luggage and heads towards one of the guest room to change.

"Oh she exists!" Quinn shouts back leaving Santana looking surprised.

Once the blonde returns from changing she sits down on the sofa alongside the Latina.

"So, she?" Santana says with a smirk, "I guess I really did a number on you at Shue's almost wedding."

Quinn can't help but swallow thickly at the memory but says nothing in response.

"Ah well, maybe I'll ring Britt and she'll bring me up to date. After all, she has to know since the two of you are sharing an apartment, right?"

"No!" Quinn snaps, "Why can't you just leave it along for once Santana? This isn't high school any more, we're just getting our feelings sorted out right now and we'll tell people when we're ready. And right now we aren't ready."

Santana eyes the blonde for a moment and she knows there is something Quinn isn't telling her, but she's right, this isn't high school anymore and if Quinn has found someone to make her happy…

The Latina sighs, "Okay fine. So how long are you staying?"

"I've got a week before I have to be back. I was going to blow them off and stay if I needed to but if she's safe now I should get back and finish the season."

"Ah yes, your glee club show." Santana nods, "You know you write that show, direct it and act in it, but I've never understood why you took the role of the pressed lemon head cheerleader with the hots for the diva rather than the lead role as the diva…?"

"I've told you before I don't have the vocal range to play Marley" Quinn says, "And I've also told you that Kitty and Marley are not gay!"

"Could have fooled me, it's like history repeating itself on the small screen." Santana observes, "And you'd make a lot of folk on tumblr very happy if they got together."

"What?"

"On tumblr they call them Karley you know, they've got a big following that would be ecstatic if…"

"No" Quinn interrupts, "The other thing."

"It's like history repeating itself?" Santana asks. Quinn nods and Santana laughs, "Oh come on, everyone knew you had a thing for Berry in High School. You were kind of obvious Q."

"You knew?" Quinn asks with surprise.

Santana rolls her eyes, "Everyone knew Q. Well except Berry and Finnept. There was a couple of times I thought you were going to jump her right in the choir room."

"Why did no one say anything?"

"What, and do to you what Finn did to me? After that little charade no one, especially me, wanted a repeat performance. We left you to get your shit together yourself, which sadly you did not do." Santana watches as Quinn plays with her hands in her lap, "Do you still have feelings for her?"

Quinn shakes her head, "No, I really have fallen for someone else. I know the difference now between real love and the infatuation I had for Rachel."

"I figured that's why you flew across the country. That you were still in love with her." Santana says watching the other girl closely.

"She's my friend and I thought I knew what was going on in her life." Quinn shakes her head again, "When you told me it was all lies I… I don't know, I guess I panicked and imagined the worst. I might not be in love with her San but I still love her and I wanted to know she was safe. And I guess I want to know why she needed to lie, why she felt that she couldn't ask me for help when she needed it."

"At first I was numb, I couldn't ask anyone for help."

Rachel's voice causes both Santana and Quinn to jump and turn towards where the diva was standing wrapped in a white fluffy robe at the end of the corridor to the bedrooms.

"And then I didn't want anyone to know I was a failure or weak." Rachel says as she looks down at her feet, her hands thrust deep into her robe pockets, "Because I was both. I spent my high school years telling everyone about my dreams, that I'd end up on Broadway like my idols, that I would win all those awards." She sniffs and wipes her nose on the robe sleeve, "And I didn't even make it to the end of the second year of NYADA".

Quinn was on her feet and had pulled Rachel over to sit with them on the sofa in seconds and then Rachel tells her story again, this time to the blonde. When she's done both Santana and Quinn have tears in their eyes.

"You're not a failure Rachel" Quinn says, "Santana's right, you've survived a lot more than many people could have. And asking for help when you need it isn't a sign of weakness either." Quinn sniffs and wipes her eyes, "I wish you had asked me back then, but I'm going to do whatever I can to help you even though I'm in LA."

"You were still in university yourself Quinn. You couldn't have helped me pay for mine."

"But I could have done something to help you Rach. I would have done anything I could if you'd asked."

"It wouldn't have made any difference." Rachel says slipping out of Quinn's grasp and standing, "I should get dressed." She says before heading back to her room.

Once the door to her bedroom has closed behind the diva Quinn turns to Santana, "She's so broken San…"

"I know, I don't think she even realizes how broken she is." Santana nods sadly, "But we'll do everything we can to fix her Q."

Quinn allows a silence to fall between them for a few moments before she continues, "She can't help you like you hoped San, not in that condition." She shakes her head, "It wouldn't be fair to put that pressure on her."

"I know Q, I know." Santana sighs rubbing her eyes slowly, "But maybe just having her here will help."

"And you can't just drop her because she can't help you. That would be worse…"

"God damn it Q! You honestly think I'd do that to her?!" Santana snapped, "You didn't see her in that club Q. It was… it was heart breaking."

"Was it that bad?"

"You remember when she performed in Glee club, how she seemed to radiate energy, she seemed so alive? How you could always tell she loved what she was doing?" Santana asks "How you could see it in her eyes?"

Quinn just nods her head rather surprised at how Santana was describing Rachel's performances, the blonde had always been pretty sure that Santana paid the diva very little attention never mind enough to be able to tell what her eyes looked like when she was doing the thing she loved the most.

"When she stepped out on that stage she looked…" Santana pauses searching for the right word, "empty… dead is all I can describe it. There was no passion, no energy and when you looked at her eyes they were just empty, void." Santana leans forward on the sofa and its only when her head drops into her hands does she realizes she's been crying again.

Quinn slides over the sofa to take the Latina's hand in her own, "Britt and I will move to New York you know, if you want us to, if you need us to." She offers.

Santana shakes her head, "No Q, you've both done so much, you both came when I needed you and I can't thank you enough for that. But you both have your careers to think of and you have your new beau."

* * *

When Rachel returns from changing into a pair of jeans and a hoodie, both pale imitations of how the garments used to look, Santana and Quinn very quickly pick up on the fact that the diva seems unsettled. She sits on the edge of the sofa like she had when she originally arrived in the apartment, not relaxing back into the deep comfortable cushions, and kept glancing from the clock on one wall to the apartment door while playing with her fingers in her lap.

Ironically her behavior reminded Santana a lot of high school Rachel when she was about to say something she knew the people hearing it wouldn't like.

"Spit it out Tiny" Santana finally says when it appears Rachel isn't going to volunteer anything.

"It's just…" Rachel starts a little hesitantly, "If I wanted to get to the club in time for my shift…"

"You don't have a shift at that club any more Rachel" Santana says, "I thought we were clear that you weren't going back there."

"But I have no other source of income Santana!"

Santana sighs, "If you want a job that badly I'm sure we can find you something to do at my record company or somewhere else in the city." Santana levels her gaze on the diva, "But don't think that gets you out of finishing your degree and there is no way in hell you are going back to that club. Clear?"

"Crystal" Rachel says a little coldly but both Quinn and Santana notes that she immediately relaxes back into the sofa and doesn't really look that upset.

"And anyway, you don't need a source of income." Santana adds, "I told you I'd take care of you didn't I?"

"I just don't want to be a burden." Rachel replies quietly.

"You're not Rach" Santana says with a small smile, "You're definitely not."

* * *

They had spent the rest of the day watching movies and chatting. Well Quinn and Santana chatted; Rachel didn't really have much to add to the discussion given that she hadn't spent much time paying any attention to current events, the media or basically anything outside her own little bubble of hell.

Eventually they had all decided it was time to turn in and headed to their separate rooms. Santana had jumped into the shower for ten minutes before pulling on sleep shorts and t-shirt, crawling into bed and promptly failing to fall asleep. She's still awake half an hour later staring at the ceiling of her room when there is a quiet knock on her door.

"Come in."

The door opens and Rachel steps in before closing it quietly behind her. She takes a few steps into the room before hesitating.

"I couldn't sleep" she explains, "I was… um…"

When the diva falls silent Santana prompts her, "Want me to hold you again?" another nod and Santana pulls back one side of the comforter and pats the bed, "Come on then."

Rachel doesn't move towards the bed immediately, instead pushing off the fluffy white robe she was wearing until it slid down her back and caught in the crook of her elbows leaving her otherwise naked body exposed to Santana gaze.

"Don't you have anything to sleep in?" Santana asks quietly while averting her gaze and starting to make for her chest of drawers.

"I do but…" Rachel seems to steel herself with a deep breath, "I… I don't have any way to repay you so I thought you could…" she gestures to herself and drops her head to stare nervously at her feet, "you know… if you wanted to… you could…"

If the diva had been watching Santana she would have seen the look of pain the crossed the other girls features but instead all she could hear was her steps, faltering at first, crossing the room to where she stood and feel her presence getting closer. She braces herself for the advances she's sure to receive now from Santana but instead is surprised to find her robe getting pulled up and wrapped around her once more and the Latina pulling her into her arms.

"Rachel, if we ever end up being together like that I swear it will be because we both want it, not because you think you owe me anything."

Rachel glances up uncertainly to meet Santana's tear filled eyes.

"And I think tomorrow I'm going to get you an appointment with a therapist I know." Santana continues.

"I don't need a shrink!" Rachel replies almost immediately but really without conviction as her gaze drops to the floor once more.

"Rachel, look at me." Santana places a finger under Rachel's chin, forcing her head up. "The Rachel Berry I know wouldn't have offered herself in payment for anything. Please…" Santana swallows and takes a steadying breath, "please tell me you haven't made that offer before. Tell me you haven't…"

Rachel shakes her head slightly from side to side, "No" she says and Santana can see the honesty in the statement.

The Latina pulls the smaller girl into a hug, "Thank God." She says relieved, "But why did you, why tonight…?"

"Because…" Rachel starts, "because I… I… I don't know." She finally admits.

"Okay" Santana sighs, "I can't make you see the therapist Rach, you are an adult after all, but I really think it would be best if you went. Will you go please? For me?"

Rachel nods once and Santana gives her back a rub once before releasing the smaller girl from the hug, "You can still sleep in here if you want, and I mean just sleep, okay?"

Another nod from Rachel sends Santana back over to the dresser, pulling out some sleep shorts and a shirt she passes them to Rachel and turns her back allowing the other girl to change in some privacy before the both climb into bed. Rachel immediately curls into Santana's arms and falls asleep as the Latina slowly strokes her hair and prays that the little fragile diva isn't so broken that she can't be put back together again.

* * *

**Author's Footnote: **So who's Quinn seeing (hint: not Puck) and why did Santana go looking for Rachel? Any thoughts?


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note:** So this is a little earlier than intended, just don't expect future chapters to keep being early! :)

I'm glad you all appreciated the previous chapter even if it was painful to read. Hopefully you'll like this chapter too.

I'm not going to say who Quinn is dating right now or why Santana was looking for Rachel, but you will find out soon.

* * *

The bedroom door flies open so violently that it actually manages to crash against the wall and before it has even had a chance to rebound, Quinn has charged into the room.

"Santana! I can't find Rachel! She's not in her room and I've looked…" Quinn trails off as she sees the diva curled up and still sleeping in Santana's arms.

"Shut up Q" Santana hisses, "You'll wake her."

Quinn's eyes shift back and forth between the sleeping form of Rachel and the glaring form of Santana as if trying to work out the answer to a difficult math problem and then her eyes narrow and she fairly growls at Santana.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, whatever." Santana says dismissively, "Later. And shut the door on your way out."

"Now!" demands Quinn.

Santana rolls her eyes but starts the complex process of getting out of bed without disturbing the diva that was sleeping in her arms and mostly on top of her at this point. She knows that tone from Quinn and she really doesn't want to deal with a pissed off blonde this early in the morning. There are a couple of times that Santana thinks Rachel is going to wake but after some swift soothing, both a hand rubbing her gently on the back and some soft words whispered in her ear, Santana has managed to extract herself from the other girl without walking her up.

She doesn't bother with a robe, Quinn has seen her in her sleep wear and less more often that Santana would care to remember, but after she closes her room door she stalks past the blonde without even glancing at her and heads straight for the kitchen. If they're going to do this, she's going to need coffee.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quinn demands trailing along behind the Latina.

"Making coffee."

"You know what I mean!" Quinn declares.

"No I fucking don't. You barge in to my bedroom at some ridiculous time of the morning bitching about god knows what before I've even woken up and had some coffee. So you can shut your mouth and wait until my percolator is done or you can get the hell out of my apartment and go back to LA"

Quinn scowls at Santana but perches in one of the stools at the breakfast bar and watches silently as Santana makes her way around the kitchen. Santana, in turn, totally ignores the fact that Quinn exists for the moment and concentrates on making the coffee without burning herself or chopping off an extremity. Yeah she's really that bad in the morning.

Just to piss Quinn off even more she takes her time and makes herself some toast, even though she has no intention of eating it, before pouring her coffee and settling down at the other end of the other side of the breakfast bar from Quinn.

"Don't I get some coffee?"

"Help yourself." Santana suggests.

The Latina is fully aware that she'd only made enough coffee for herself and she can't help but grin when Quinn thumps the jug down in disgust.

"So what exactly did you wake me up for at god-awful early in the morning for?"

"What are you doing with Rachel?" the blonde demands.

"What does it look like?"

"It looks like you're taking advantage of her, that's what!" Quinn says angrily, "I find her in bed with you despite the fact you said she had her own room. What are you doing Santana? Is this how you're making her pay for you helping her? Forcing her to sleep with you?"

The slap echoes through the room and Santana doesn't even realise she has moved or struck out until the sting begins in the palm of her hand. She does however react fast enough to step back to avoid Quinn's retaliation strike and manages to snag the other girls wrist in a tight grasp, slamming her hand down on the marble counter between them and watching Quinn wince at the contact.

The Latina glances down to find to her disgust that her coffee mug had been knocked over at some point and the spilled coffee was now being soaked up by her toast as well as dripping down onto the floor.

"You spilled my coffee!" she says

"What the hell was that for?!" Quinn demands at the same moment.

"For fuck sake Quinn, you do realise you just basically accused me of rape right?" Santana snaps, "You expect me to sit here and take that? You're lucky a slap is all you got!"

Quinn just glares at the Latina, "You've basically ensured that Rachel is totally dependent on you now Santana, she has no apartment or job of her own, everything she has fits into three bags, two of which belong to you. So I'm pretty sure she would agree to anything you ask her to do."

"Grow the fuck up Q." Santana demands, "You said it yourself, this isn't high school any more so don't think you can come into my home and accuse me of shit like that." Santana releases Quinn's hand and stabs her in the chest with a finger, "I'm not playing games and I have no intention of taking advantage of her. For your information Rachel came to me last night. The night before when we were over at her ex-apartment I held her until she cried herself to sleep and she wanted that again last night, to be held by someone that actually gives a damn about her and to feel safe. Might have something to do with the fact that she had to tell her story twice in less than twelve hours."

Santana takes a breath deliberately skipping the offer Rachel had made to her the previous night, not only to avoid giving Quinn the wrong idea, but because no one but her and Rachel and maybe Rachel's therapist needed to know about that, ever.

"So that's what happened, I held her till she fell asleep and then I held her while she slept. It was you that turned it into something it wasn't in that sick little mind of yours."

"I'm just trying to look out for her. I care about her and…"

"And what? You automatically think I'm going to take advantage of her? Nice to know you have such a high opinion of me." Santana eyes the mess on the breakfast bar before continuing, "Look, I don't particularly care what you do today but don't do it in this apartment. And if you're not ready by this evening to offer a grovelling apology for what you just accused me of, make sure you have a flight back to LA booked for the morning, because I don't want to see you again until you do."

"You can't just chuck me out!"

"My home, my rules. You don't like it then go find a fucking hotel." Santana turns to head back to the bedroom, "And clean up that mess you caused!"

"Where are you going?" Quinn demands.

"Back to bed, it's too damn early for this shit since you spilt my coffee and I don't want Rach to wake up alone."

Santana refrains from slamming the bedroom door even though she really wants to and leans back against it, the back of her head resting against the cool wood as she eyes the girl on her bed. Rachel has rolled over and curled up on her side of the bed and looks so small under the comforter but for the first time since Santana first saw the girl in the club a few days ago, she actually looks peaceful.

The cheerleader crosses to the bed and tries to climb back in without disturbing the diva but Rachel must have felt something for as soon as Santana is settled, she rolls over again and curls into the Latina's side, resting her head on Santana's shoulder. It seems to have been an automatic reaction because she gives no other indication to Santana that she's awake and when Santana is still smiling when she finally slips off to sleep.

* * *

It takes some time for Santana to realize why her bed feels cold and empty when she wakes a few hours later. A glance at her alarm clock tells her it's almost lunch time and for some reason she's slept a lot later than she normally does even with Quinn's interruption in the early morning so she assumes that Rachel has gotten up ages ago and is entertaining herself somewhere in the apartment, after all Santana seems to remember Rachel being a morning person back on the few occasions they had shared a room together at Glee competition trips.

At least the diva didn't wake her up by singing.

But Santana's conclusion is proven wrong very shortly afterwards when the door to her en-suite opens and Rachel steps out wrapped only in a towel with damp hair and drops of water beading on her bare shoulders. She doesn't notice that Santana has woken since the Latina hasn't really moved since she woke and instead crosses to stare out of a small gap in the curtains over the window to the city outside as she uses another towel on her hair.

Santana can't help it as her eyes dip down the diva's body, she's seen the girl naked twice now, hell she's held her naked body close to her own overnight as the diva slept fitfully, and up until now she hasn't felt anything other than sadness and overwhelming need to take care of the girl. But now as her eyes take in the swell over Rachel's towel covered breasts, the curve of her hips, the shape of her just covered butt and those long, long legs and the Latina can't help but feel a spark of desire for the diva.

She mentally shakes herself. Rachel is too fragile and too reliant on her right now. Quinn was right on one thing, Rachel might feel she has to agree to whatever she suggests and the one thing Santana is not going to do is take advantage of the situation or of Rachel. So restraint is required, concentrate on getting the girl back on her feet and then… maybe…

"Penny for your thoughts." Santana offers making Rachel jump.

"I thought you were still asleep" Rachel explains when she collected herself again, "I hope you don't mind me using your shower, I was already in it before I realized it wasn't the one in my apartment."

"Your old apartment" Santana corrects automatically, "And its fine Rach, just as long as you don't set up camp in there or something."

Rachel offers Santana a small smile and a nod before returning her gaze to the scene outside the window.

"So?" Santana asks after a minute, "What are you thinking about so hard?"

"Last night." Rachel says as her cheeks turn pink with embarrassment.

"Look, you don't have to be embarrassed or worried about that Rachel" Santana says thinking about the offer Rachel had made the previous night, "I'm never going to tell anyone about it and it's in the past, as far as I'm concerned it's forgotten, okay?" Rachel nods and Santana adds, "You are still going to talk to the therapist, right?"

"If you think that's best."

Santana cocks her head and considers Rachel for a moment, "Normally I'd say it's up to you to decide what's best for you, but honestly I don't know if you can even do that right now. And yes, I do think it's for the best."

"Then I'll go." Rachel confirms. "So what's the plan for today?"

"What do you want to do?"

Rachel shakes her head, "The club has pretty much been my life for the last two years. I don't remember the last time I wasn't working or trying to forget about working…"

Santana is pretty sure that 'trying to forget' meant Rachel drinking herself into a stupor. How many times had the girl resorted to that to get away from the hell that was her life? And what sort of effect had it had on her body? Santana had seen that Rachel looked okay on the outside, but god know how much damage that much alcohol had done to her system.

"And now you don't know what to do with yourself given work isn't an issue any more?" Santana asks. Rachel nods and Santana smiles, "Well how about you get dressed while I take a quick shower and then we can go out for lunch?" Rachel looks a little pensive and Santana adds, "Unless you don't want to…"

"It's just… Is it wise for you to be seen with me by those paparazzi? If someone recognizes me…"

"No one will recognize you Rach" Santana assures the diva, "I barely recognized you with that mask on and I knew it was you. And anyway, I know a place we'll get some privacy, it's not like I like having them follow me around and snapping photos all the time."

A quick shower and a few phone calls later, Santana finds Rachel sitting in her room staring out of her window again. She's wearing the same worn jeans as the previous day and a different though equally worn hoody with what is, as far as Santana can tell, the NYADA logo on it. The Latina frowns at the sight and then mentally flips back over all the items of clothing she had packed for the diva in that ratty little apartment and came to an unsurprising conclusion. Everything Rachel owned was about as old and worn as the things she was currently wearing.

"So I'm thinking after lunch we can go shopping." Santana says, "What do you think?"


	8. Chapter 8

**Authors Note:** um... is it odd that the hardest bit to write in one of these chapters is sometimes the authors note? So it's been a while since the last chapter but I've been banging my head off of the latest chapter of Undying Love which really didn't come together until the last minute (literally).

So this chapter is about establishing how Santana and Rachel get on together now they are living together and how Santana handles the paps and looks after Rachel. Not dramatic, but I think important.

We'll find out if Quinn is going to apologize and who she's seeing in the next chapter.

Oh yeah, and I know that in these modern times Santana wouldn't be able to do at the bank what she does without a bunch of Rachel's ID and probably having Rachel there with her, but this is a story so meh.

* * *

Santana decides she needs to give the paparazzi some face time or they will, as Santana put it, hang around like a bad fucking smell. So she gets off of the elevator at the lobby and Rachel continues down to the parking garage where she finds the same town car with the same driver from the day before. He smiles and greets her by name, calling her Miss Berry, while holding the door for her as she climbs in.

They pull out of the garage and park at the curb almost directly in front of the buildings doors. There is some interest in the car from the paparazzi, and Rachel is thankful for the heavy tinting of the windows, until the driver steps out and heads towards the building indicating someone is coming out to the car not going in from it.

Almost as soon as he reaches the door it pops open and Santana steps out accompanied by another uniformed man that Rachel assumes is a doorman or security guard. Either way he helps the driver push back the assembled crowd as Santana walks towards the car. She's wearing dark glasses now, necessary against the bright flashed of the camera trained on her, and a tight lipped expression but she doesn't duck her head or shy away from the cameras as she almost marches towards the car.

When she reaches the car, the two men shield her from the camera lenses as she climbs in and closes the door, the locks clunking shut almost immediately the door closes. Santana lets out a sigh of relief as she pulls off the sunglasses and looks over to Rachel with a smile.

"Hopefully that will keep them happy for a while."

Rachel can't help but be a little sad that Santana finds something so taxing that she herself had been looking forward to for as long as she could remember. Looking forward to up until three years ago anyway. And as they pull away from the curb, camera flashes still going off even though all they would be getting is black window, a thought occurs to Rachel.

"How am I supposed to get in and out of the apartment without being seen if the paparazzi are still there?" she asks, "I mean, I guess there are going to be some times this car won't be available."

"Oh you'll be able to come and go as you like as long as they don't link you with me." Santana says, "Which is why you went down to the car today. There are plenty of people that live in the building that aren't famous, just stinking rich. And the last time a pap tried to hassle someone that wasn't in the public eye, I suggested they have a restraining order taken out against him. He can't come within one hundred meters of the building which kind of screws up his attempts to get photos of me." Santana smiles and shrugs, "They know if they piss anyone else off they'll get the same thing, so they behave. Most of the time anyway. And there isn't that many there usually, I just haven't been seen out for a while and they are all wondering why."

Rachel had thought that Santana didn't want to be seen with her in case someone recognized her from her old job and caused a stink, a theory that she had understood and had accepted. But now she realizes that Santana had been trying to protect her and it only takes her a moment to work out why. Trying to go to university again or really do anything while linked to Santana and with paparazzi following her around? That wouldn't exactly be pleasant.

"You don't like them, do you? The paparazzi I mean." Rachel asks curiously.

"Who'd like them? They are a necessary evil I guess, but some of them take it too far and stick their lenses where they are definitely not wanted. I'd be happier without them to be honest but then I think most people feel the same way. I'd like to be able to go out and meet friends for a drink without having to take extraordinary measures to avoid photos being taken."

Rachel looks down at her tatty clothes suddenly realizing that she looks pretty much like a tramp next to Santana's expensive looking tailored outfit. "What if they see me today at lunch?"

"Don't worry, they won't. Not where we're going." Santana assures her, "And if you do decide you want to be seen with me, we'll make sure you look hot too." She adds with a smirk when she sees where Rachel is looking.

Rachel blushes, "It's my choice?" she asks a little surprise.

Santana smiles, "Of course it is Rach, did you think I didn't want to be seen with you? I just didn't want you to end up in the spotlight before you even realised the spotlight was there. So yes it's your choice, but don't rush in to it because there are plenty of downsides to be considered. And yes, I know you've been training for it all your life" Santana adds before Rachel can interrupt her, "but it's probably a lot different than you think it'll be. Take it from someone who has to deal with it on a daily basis." She reaches over and squeezes Rachel's knee, "We'll talk about it before you decide, okay?"

Rachel just nods.

They pull up outside a bank which confuses Rachel since she thought they had been heading directly to wherever they were going to have lunch.

"I've got a few things I need to take care of in here" Santana explains, "Do you want to come in or wait here?"

Rachel looks out of the car. There are a lot of people on the sidewalk and more walking into and out of the bank. She looks down at her clothes again and thinks about the discussion she had just had with Santana before she shakes her head. "I'll wait here."

The driver was already standing next to Santana's door and steps up beside her like a body guard as soon as she climbs out. He returns to the car a few minutes later, after Santana had successfully entered the building, and looking rather unhappy, but climbs into the driver's seat and settles in to wait without comment. About thirty minutes later Santana is escorted back to the car by a bank security guard, stopping on the way to sign an autograph for a young girl that apparently recognized her, and the car pulls away from the curb as soon as the door closes behind her.

* * *

Rachel isn't entirely sure where they are. It's some restaurant apparently, but she hadn't seen any more than the back door they had come in through, the corridor from there and this small room they were now sitting in. Precautions Santana had assured her were necessary to ensure an undisturbed meal. Apparently the paparazzi knew the singer loved this particular place and would drop by occasionally when they knew she was out to see if she's stopped by for something to eat.

The owner didn't seem to mind though, it was probably good publicity for his business, and he greeted them both warmly before leading them through to the small private room while talking animatedly to Santana in Spanish. Santana seemed relaxed and even laughed a few times which allowed Rachel to relax too. The Latina had ordered for them, after Rachel had confirmed that was okay, and now they were sitting sipping wine and waiting for their first course.

"I have something for you, a few things actually." Santana says suddenly. She pulls out a small book and passes it over to Rachel who notes that it has the logo of the bank they just left embossed on the front. "That's a savings account. There's enough money there to pay for and support you through the remainder of your degree with a little left over if you manage it right."

Rachel turns the small book over in her hands a few times but doesn't open it. She can suddenly feel her heart thumping in her chest and her mouth has gone very dry even as she blinks back the tears that have surprised her by trying to fall. Did Santana want rid of her already? She knew it had to be too good to be true of course and yes, she'd be better off if she took Santana's money, be able to finish her degree and maybe actually get a chance to perform, but she'd also be alone again and that though scared her much more than it should have.

"Do you… do you want me to leave?" she asks in a small voice.

"God no!" Santana blurts, "That's the total opposite of what I want Rach. I want you to stay, I need you to stay!" she pauses and takes a breath before she says the wrong thing, "But Quinn pointed out something that after some thought I agree with. She thought you might feel that you had to agree to anything I suggested because you didn't have anywhere else to go, that you'd feel trapped with me and I really don't want that." She taps the book Rachel is holding, "With that you can leave if you want to or feel you need to, you won't be trapped."

"But you could just take this back." Rachel observes.

Santana shakes her head, "It's in your name. Even if I took the book back you would still have the money in the bank and they certainly won't give it back to me."

Rachel considers the book again then tries to hand it back to Santana, "I can't take your money Santana, I'm sure you won't force me to do anything I object to."

"Then keep it for me." Santana says pushing it away from her, "That way I'll know if you stay it's because you want to, not because you have to." Santana can see Rachel isn't convinced so adds, "Look if you don't use it before you graduate then you can give it back to me then. Okay?"

Rachel nods reluctantly and slides the book into the pocket of her hoody.

"Good. Now along the same lines I have this." Santana slides a small prepaid credit card across the table, "There's a couple of thousand dollars on there right now and I'll top it up every month. If you need more, let me know."

"Santana!" Rachel starts, but the Latina interrupts her.

"I know what you're going to say Rach, so don't. If you don't have that how are you going to buy a metro card, buy books for school, go out with friends for lunch or pay for those day to day expenses that everyone has? You're going to need some money in your pocket Rach and this is the easiest way to deal with that for both of us. You don't need to be embarrassed about asking for cash and I don't need to worry if you have any. I promised I'd take care of you Rach and money is very much part of that. So just take it, okay?"

Reluctantly, the card joins the book in Rachel's hoodie pocket.

"And finally, these are yours." Santana produces a key ring with a number of keys, an electronic card and a large fob on it. "These two keys are for the apartment and the card opens the front door, gives you access to the gym and pool and will let you take the elevator up to our floor in the building. There are proximity sensors in the door handles, just wave the card near them, and a slot in the lift to run the card through."

"There's a gym and pool?" Rachel asked in surprise.

"Sure, there's even a personal trainer if you want. They charge enough for the apartment trust me, so they have to pull out all the stops."

At this point lunch arrived and Rachel was surprised.

"You ordered vegan food?" she asks.

Santana nods, "Well, you are still vegan. Aren't you?"

Rachel shakes her head sadly, "I haven't been since… well for some years."

Santana looks at her for a long moment before asking, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Rachel shakes her head a little, "Not now" she says quietly.

"Well dig in. Wait till you taste the soy ice cream they do here. It's to die for."

* * *

Santana surprises Rachel by taking her to what she would call a "normal" clothing store. She had expected someone like Santana to shop at the high end stores where you'd have to take out a mortgage to buy a pair of jeans, but apparently not.

"You shop here?" Rachel asks surprised.

"Not for everything but I get a good portion of my wardrobe here, for both day to day and tours." She notes Rachel's expression of surprise, "Look, a lot of my fans are younger and you know what it means to them to be able to wear the same clothes as me? Not cheap copies but the exact same thing?" Rachel nods and Santana smiles, "But anyway look."

She points at something and Rachel follows her gesture, eyes finally focusing on a floor to ceiling picture of Santana. In underwear. In very small underwear. She's wearing a sheer dressing gown of some type over it, but that doesn't stop the overall effect from being intoxicating causing Rachel to actually have to drag her eyes away from the picture.

Santana was smirking at her when Rachel looks back at the singer, "Yeah, a lot of people have that reaction." She leans towards Rachel and whispers, "But I don't buy my lingerie here. Don't tell anyone, but I'm more of a Victoria's Secret girl myself."

Rachel is pretty sure her face is on fire.

"Miss Lopez!" someone calls hurrying towards them, "I'm so sorry. Security called me as soon as you arrived, I wasn't aware you were coming in today or I'd have been ready for you."

Santana smiles at the girl, a genuine smile not the fake one she sometimes uses for fans or the paparazzi, and holds out her arms for a hug, "Maria, it's good to see you again. And it's not a problem; it's an unscheduled visit today. Can you fit us in?"

"Absolutely Miss Lopez, I have all afternoon available if you need me."

Santana rolls her eyes, "And what have I told you about calling me Santana?"

Maria shakes her head, "My boss would fire me if he heard me do that, he's very strict like that."

"If he fires you, give me a call and he'll be fired. I won't have him treating my favorite personal shopper like that."

Maria nods and glances at Rachel, which Santana notices.

"Maria, this is my best friend Rachel Berry. Rachel this is Maria, the best personal shopper in this city."

"It's nice to meet you Miss Berry." Maria offers.

"You too" Rachel replies.

"During her travels of the last few years, Rachel's wardrobe has suffered quite substantially though loss, damage and wear. She's going to need a whole new day and evening wardrobe, can you help her with that?"

Rachel is pretty sure she can see dollar signs light up the personal shopper's eyes and the next thing she knows she's being spirited away, with Santana following close behind, to have every inch of her measured.


	9. Chapter 9

**Authors Note**: A quick update today since this chapter pretty much wrote itself. More shopping the Quinn's reveal.

* * *

"I really don't know when you expect me to wear anything like this!" Rachel declares from the changing room.

They had left the previous store and at Santana's insistence headed over to Victoria's Secret where Santana was again greeted by a very enthusiastic personal shopper, one that Santana treated very coolly. Apparently not someone Santana liked very much. But the experience for Rachel was pretty much the same as the previous store. Santana introduced her as her best friend, told them what Rachel needed and the diva was whisked away to be measured.

And that's when things started going wrong, because the lingerie that was delivered was, well insubstantial. Yes it was nice but it was just too fancy and, in Rachel's mind, not really suitable for day to day wear. She's currently trying on a bra and panties set that would probably look fine on Santana, but just looked stupid in her.

"I mean look" she says pulling the changing room curtain to the side so Santana could see, "This just looks stupid on me."

Santana would beg to differ. She's been leaning against the wall opposite the changing room casually filing her nails and had of course looked up when the curtain had been pulled back.

And had forgotten how to breathe.

She had seen Rachel naked of course, more often in the last few days then during the whole career together at High School, but sometimes seeing less was a whole lot more and that certainly applied in this case. She was wearing red panties that were about half the size of the items Santana could remember packing when they left her old apartment and a matching bra that seemed to fit like a glove with black patent high heels finishing the outfit. Rachel had fallen in love with them at the previous store and more or less begged to keep them on. Santana had just been happy to see the diva passionate about something again, even it if was just a pair of shoes.

The result pretty much blew Santana's mind.

She hadn't even managed to say anything by the time Rachel is done glaring and has pulled the curtain shut again. She swallows thickly and her eyes drop to her nails and the now motionless nail file pressed against one of them. A deep breath and she can speak again.

"You don't look stupid Rach, you look good." She manages, "And look at it this way, sometime in the future you're going to meet some guy and bring him back home and be happy you have something like that to wear."

"Or girl."

Santana's eyes shoot back up to still closed curtain, "What?"

The curtain is pulled back a little again but this time only Rachel's head pops out, "What?" she asks confused.

"I thought you said 'or girl'?"

"Yes. I'm bisexual, I thought you knew." Rachel says pulling her head back into the changing room. She closes her eyes and swallows as she realises she has just 'came out' to Santana and that might changing everything. "Is-is that a problem?"

"No, of course not" came Santana's instant reply, allowing Rachel to breathe a sigh of relief, "I'm gay after all so why would it be a problem?"

"I just wasn't sure. Are you and Britt…?"

"No" Santana cuts off Rachel, "and I don't want to talk about private stuff when we're out in public Rach, so please don't ask any more on that subject."

Rachel nods then adds "Okay" when she realizes Santana can't see her. The last time Rachel had heard anything about Britt and Santana was the summer after her first year at NYADA. She had gone home for the summer and had bumped in to them both there and had been happy to find out they had made the long distance thing work when Britt had to stay at High School for another year.

And then Britt had gotten in to Julliard, more suitable for her as a dancer than NYADA, and they had been looking forward to going to the city together. Britt studying while Santana worked on her first album. She hadn't heard anything since then and she had been wondering what had happened to the pair since she had arrived at Santana's apartment and had discovered that the girl was obviously living alone. Maybe she could find out later when they were home.

Home. A few days ago that meant a hole in the wall apartment in one of the nastier neighborhoods in the city where she'd go to scrub herself raw then drink herself into oblivion. But now the first image she saw in her mind when she thought about home was Santana… and that was just weird.

She turns towards the pile of things to try on and picks up the next outfit with a scowl.

* * *

In the end they compromised mainly because Rachel pointed out that while Santana was paying (they had had that argument back at the previous store) she actually had to wear them and she'd like some items that she would feel comfortable in. So she ended up with a large selection of what Santana called "sexy stuff" that Rachel could tolerate and a just as large selection of underwear, sleepwear and swimwear that she would feel comfortable in. Including a number of pairs of pyjama's in different colors with gold stars on them that Santana had victoriously produced after she ventured into the store on her own.

When Rachel had seen the total on the till she had actually gasped. Santana hadn't blinked.

As with the clothes store, they had left Victoria's Secret empty handed. When Rachel had asked about this, Santana had explained that everything would be delivered to her apartment before the end of the day. Apparently it was part of the service and avoided them having to battle through crowds, read paparazzi Rachel thought, with lots of bags.

The next stop surprised Rachel since it was at an Apple store, not the big glass cube on Fifth Avenue but one of the smaller stores where Santana explained she'd be less conspicuous. Santana insisted on buying Rachel a Mac Pro, iPad and iPhone complete with accessories even though Rachel pointed out she had no used for them. She hadn't needed them in the past few years so why would she need them now?

Santana answered that question succinctly, "You'll need something to do your collage work on, iPads are fun and Quinn will want your mobile number before she goes home. End of argument."

Rachel had been a little shocked at that.

For the first time in years, Rachel left the store with a working mobile phone in her pocket as she had cancelled her service pretty quickly after things had started going wrong as an expense she just didn't need. She's looking at the phone as she steps out of the store but looks up to see Santana stopped and signing an autograph for a fan that had apparently recognized her, the smile on her face as genuine as when she smiled at Rachel.

Rachel raises the phone and takes a picture of Santana smiling at the little girl and sets it has her phone background.

After looking around for a moment to make sure no one was paying attention to her, she walks around the back of the town car and climbs in, receiving a nod from the driver who was keeping an eye on Santana from his position by the driver's door. A few moments later the other door opens and the Latina climbs in and almost as soon as the door closes, they are pulling out into traffic.

"I love my fans, but sometimes it's just a little inconvenient. Luckily no one knows where we're going now, so even if there were paparazzi there, they won't be able to follow us."

"Where are we going?" Rachel asks.

"That's a good point, I don't actually know." Santana says, "Is there somewhere you want to go? Something you need we haven't already covered?"

Rachel shakes her head, there's nothing that springs to mind right now but even if there was she wasn't about to let Santana add to the small fortune she'd spent on the diva today.

"So home then please James" Santana says and the driver turns at the next junction.

* * *

The paparazzi had thinned out a little when they arrived back at the apartment block but they still took the car down to the basement garage and an elevator up to the apartment. The living area wasn't packed with bags as Rachel had been expecting, but Quinn was sitting on the sofa staring blankly at the television that was tuned to a news channel. She stood as soon as they arrived and nervously smoothed the front of her sundress with her hands.

"I put all the bags in your room Rachel" she offers with a small smile, "I hope that's okay, the delivery people said they were all for you."

"Thank you Quinn, that was very kind of you." Rachel replies and both of the other girls blink because, just for a moment, Rachel sounded a lot like her old self.

Quinn's attention turns to Santana, "Can we talk?"

There is a pause as Santana eyes the blonde then a nod, "Music room" she says and they both head off that way leaving a confused Rachel behind.

When they reach the music room, Santana drops down onto one of the stools and kicks another over to Quinn who was still standing a little enviously by the door.

"I'm sorry." The blonde says.

After a few moments Santana asks, "Is that it?"

"No, but that's the most important bit. I am sorry, truly sorry. I shouldn't have accused you like that or of that. I didn't mean to accuse you of something like that." Quinn looks down at her hands that are resting in her lap, "I'm just worried about her San and it would be so easy for anyone to take advantage of her. Not you" she quickly adds, "I realize now you wouldn't do that. But you and I both know there are plenty of people in our businesses that would, so I got defensive and yeah, I jumped to the wrong conclusion and I am sorry for that." She frowns and adds quietly, "I know were not in High School any more but I guess some of us have grown up more than others."

Santana watches Quinn for a long moment then nods, "Okay Q, apology accepted, but remember this. What you said really hurt. Even back in High School every person I fucked had a choice to say no, I never forced myself on anyone, ever. And I'm not about to start. Just keep that in mind the next time you jump to conclusions."

Quinn nods and Santana sighs. "But I have to admit there was some truth in what you said, the whole trapped thing. I thought about it and I can see what you mean so I took care of it. I opened a savings account for her today with enough cash to cover her schooling and living expenses for a couple of years, enough so she can finish school. So she can leave if she needs to and if she stays it'll be because she wants to, not because she has to."

"That was very thoughtful of you San, I'm sure Rachel will appreciate it."

Santana chuckles, "Rachel tried to give it back to me right away, you know what she's like. She doesn't want charity even though she needs it."

Quinn just nods and rises to head to the door as Santana picks up and strums one of the many guitars that are scattered around the room.

"Quinn" Santana's voice stops the blonde in her tracks, "Don't hurt Britt or I'll have to hurt you."

"What?"

"I know you're dating Britt Q, it took me a while to work it out but was kind of obvious when I thought about it."

"Is that a problem?" Quinn asks uncertainly.

"Britt and I are in the past, but she's still one of my best friends and so are you. Don't make me choose."

As Quinn closes the door behind her Santana starts quietly playing and singing one of her own older but unpublished compositions. A song about lost love and heartbreak.

* * *

"Quinn?"

Rachel's voice calls out to the blonde as she heads from the music room back to the living area. She stops as Rachel's door and watches the diva slowly working her way through the amazing number of bags that had been delivered for her.

"Need a hand?" she offers.

"No I'm good thanks. I was just wondering if you were okay."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not a fool Quinn, I may not have seen you or Santana in a few years but I know when something is going on and you were out today before we got up and the tension when we got back was rather evident. So are you and Santana okay?"

Quinn watches as Rachel folds the top she has just pulled out of a bag and places it on the top of a pile of similar items, "We had a little bit of an argument, but we're okay now."

"No slapping?" Rachel asks.

Quinn can't help but chuckle, "Let's say I realized I deserved it this time."

Rachel nods, "Can I ask you something about Santana?"

"Sure."

"Do you know what happened between her and Britt?"

Quinn considers her answer carefully but decides to err on the side of caution, "You'd really have to ask her that I'm afraid, it's not really my place to say. But I wouldn't ask right now, she's just had some news which had brought back some of the memories."

"What news?" Rachel asks curiously, "If you can tell me I mean."

"I'm dating Britt."


	10. Chapter 10

**Authors Note: **I know some people aren't too keen on Quitt, but don't worry, while they will pop up occasionally here and there, they aren't going to be a main part of the story. If you like you can just consider them roommates after this chapter though I could possibly be persuaded to do some related one or two-shots if there's enough interest. And yes, you will eventually find out why Santana and Britt split, but not yet.

I'll mention as I did with Undying Love that I might not be able to post a chapter next week, I'll confirm if that is the case on my tumblr (URL is talwynfanfic) as soon as I can.

Please let me know what you think of the following.

* * *

The argument was epic, Santana really had no other word for it, but that was to be expected given the participants were the two most dramatic people she had ever known in her life. It had ended up so loud that the people in the apartment immediately below them had called the front desk to complain, who had then apologetically called Santana's mobile after getting no response to the landline installed in the apartment.

That was the moment Santana had opened the music room's soundproof door to be greeted by what could only be described as a wall of noise. She found the source of the noise easily enough, walking down the corridor to stand in the door to what she now considered to be Rachel's room. Inside Quinn and Rachel was having as close to a knock-down drag-out fight as two people could have that weren't actually hitting each other.

Add whatever the pair were fighting about to the shoes as something else that Santana has seen Rachel passionate about.

And to be honest, Santana isn't exactly sure what the two are fighting about because all the scraps of words she can make out don't actually make that much sense. Obviously the subject of the argument had been decided and logical discourse had been exhausted well before the argument had gotten this far. Santana figures the only reason the argument is actually still happening is because Rachel wasn't about to storm out of her own room and Quinn was so damn stubborn that she had to get the last word in. Something Rachel was obviously not about to let happen.

The Latina takes advantage of a break in the argument that is apparently to allow both girls to catch their breath, to shut them up.

"What the fuck is going on here?!" she demands.

Rachel recovers first, "We were just having a discussion on a topic we are both rather passionate about and…"

"A discussion?" Santana interrupts, "You do realize I'll have to go downstairs in a few minutes to apologize to the people who live below us because the pair of you caused so much noise they actually complained to the front desk? These walls aren't made out of paper here people. I don't remember the last time I've heard any noise that wasn't generated inside this apartment. So what the hell were you two arguing so loudly about?"

Both woman stand eying each other with their arms crossed over their chests, Rachel's foot actually tapping on the floor, until Santana sighs, "Fine. Quinn, what are you arguing about?"

"Rachel seems to have a problem with the fact I'd dating Britt." Quinn offers in a flat tone.

"It's just…" Rachel begins only to be cut off by Santana.

"Stop Rach!"

Surprisingly Rachel does stop and Santana looks at Quinn, indicating with a jerk of her head towards the door that she should go anywhere but here. Once Quinn has gone, Santana takes Rachel's hand and guides her over until they can both sit on the edge of the bed.

"Why has Quinn dating Britt gotten you so wound up Rach?" she asks softly.

When Rachel doesn't reply but only stares at the floor near her feet, Santana slides a finger under her chin and encourages the diva to look her in the eye. "Talk to me Rach, please."

"Quinn's your friend and Britt's your ex. They shouldn't be dating each other, it's disrespectful."

Santana can't help but sigh, she knows Rachel's heart is in the right place but this really isn't a fight she should be having. "Rach, do you know what was most important to me when it comes to Britt?"

Rachel seems to think about it for a moment and then shrugs, "I don't know."

"That she's happy. And yeah, before you point it out I know there were plenty of times with me at high school that she wasn't happy and probably even more that you don't know about since then. But if she's honestly happy with Quinn then I'm happy for both of them. And despite what you may think, neither of them would do anything intentionally to hurt me because your right, first are foremost the three of us are friends."

"So you're okay with it?" Rachel asks uncertainly.

"I am" Santana confirms, "Who do you think suggested Britt ask if she could stay with Q when she moved to LA? Granted I never thought they'd get together but I think I can pull off taking the credit for it."

Rachel just shrugs, not otherwise acknowledging Santana's joke.

"Now how about you go and make up with Quinn, and if she gives you any trouble come get me before the shouting starts. I'll be in the music room. Okay?"

* * *

Rachel finds Quinn siting on a sofa in the living room, nose buried in a novel. She shuffles into the room to stand a little bit away from the sofas.

"I'm sorry Quinn, I was wrong."

Quinn looks up then stands, discarding her book for the moment before striding over to the other girl and pulling the diva into her arms. "It's okay. You meant well."

And that's all it took.

* * *

Santana went looking for Rachel the next day when it was approaching lunch time and the diva still hadn't made an appearance and found her still in her still in her gold star pajamas, standing in her room and staring at the contents of her walk-in closet.

"Is something wrong Rach?"

"It's stupid." Rachel says shyly while ducking her head.

"Rach, I think we're beyond judging each other right now." Santana says kindly, "Tell me what's wrong."

Rachel sighs dramatically and Santana has to suppress a smile, "I can't decide what to wear."

Santana crosses over to Rachel and looks into the closet which is already freakishly organized. If Santana had bought as many clothes for herself the previous day as she had for Rachel, they would probably all still be in their bags on the closet floor.

"Okay, well Quinn wants to have a picnic in Central Park for lunch, so how about I pick for you today so we can head out?"

Rachel nods and Santana steps into the closet. Quickly locating Rachel's underwear in the built in drawers, selecting the black versions of the panties and bra Rachel had shown off when they were in Victoria's Secret and passed them out to the diva while surveying the clothes hanging from the racks in the small room.

She eliminates the jeans immediately. Rachel had pretty much lived in jeans for the past three years as far as Santana could tell from when she packed Rachel's clothes. The only exception seemed to be when she was working, and in the Latina's opinion a change was well overdue. The same for any of the skirt outfits, too much like her work outfit, and that left dresses. So Santana picks a knee length sleeveless dress with a slightly flared skirt and matching jacket combo which would be pretty much perfect for today's weather. A moments searching finds a suitable pair of low wide-heeled ankle boots and a purse and leaves Santana marveling once again at how organized the diva was.

Maybe she could get Rachel to organize her closet?

When she steps out of the closet she wasn't exactly sure what she had been expected but it certainly wasn't Rachel already stripped out of her pajamas and wearing just the lingerie that Santana had handed her moments before. She wasn't wearing heels this time but the overall effect was pretty much the same as in Victoria's Secret but without the advantage of a curtain the could be pulled between them to avoid Santana making a fool of herself.

And the effect on Santana was pretty much the same too and once again she actually has to remind herself to breath. She can't help it as her eyes dip down traveling the length of Rachel's body and back up again and she cringes a little when the boots slip from her hands to crash onto the floor. Rachel doesn't seem to notice though as she takes the dress from Santana and steps into it before turning to ask the Latina to zip her up.

Santana hoped that Rachel didn't notice her hands shaking a little as she pulled up the zip.

They actually did make it to Central Park, avoiding the remaining few paparazzi by taking the town car from the garage, and spent a rather enjoyable day taking in the sights of the park with Quinn and without Santana embarrassing herself any further.

The next few days are spent pretty much the same way. Santana picking an outfit for Rachel before the three of them head out for whatever destination had been agreed on for the day. Quinn had never really lived in New York, the closest being New Haven when she was at Yale, and Rachel has spent the last few years going from work to home to the little park to work and so they were both excited to take in the sights and even managed to drag Santana along to a Broadway show or two.

Santana didn't accompany them to the airport when it was time for Quinn to return to LA though. There were usually too many photographers around which meant too much of a risk that Rachel would be linked with the singer and they hadn't had that discussion yet. So Quinn and Rachel took the town car together and waited in the concourse for the call for Quinn's flight.

Just after her flight is called, Quinn turns to Rachel, "Rach, Santana really wants to help you and its okay to let her, just remember…" she pauses and sighs, seemingly changing her mind about what she was going to day, "Just… If you need anything or need to get away from the city for a while, just give me or Britt a call. Okay?"

Rachel agrees, wondering what Quinn was going to say before she changed her mind but deciding that now isn't the time to pursue the topic, "I'll keep that in mind. And you'll text me when you get home?"

"I'll text as soon as I've gotten home" Quinn confirms, "And Britt and I will Skype soon."

Rachel waits until Quinn has disappeared through the gates and down one of the long corridors towards the planes before she turns and heads back to the town car and back to what she had only just started calling home.

* * *

The first appointment that Santana had been able to get with the therapist was a week and a half after she had called. The Latina hadn't exactly been happy with that but from what she could tell, she was lucky that someone had just cancelled their sessions. Still, she was by all accounts the best in the city for this kind of work and as far as Santana was concerned, only the best would do for Rachel.

There were certain advantages too. This particular practice was well versed in the needs of those that were either famous or just paranoid and that meant that Santana could easily accompany Rachel to her sessions without attracting any attention as they entered or exited the building. They even had a private waiting area which is where Santana is currently sitting waiting for Rachel's first hour session to be over.

Santana had come with the diva not to sit in on the session, what she talked about with the therapist was private and Santana had no desire to intrude on that, but in case she needed someone to lean on afterwards, either metaphorically or physically. Santana intended to be there for Rachel for as long as the diva wanted her.

And she knew she had been right to come as soon as the office door opened and Rachel stepped out followed closely by the therapist. The diva had obviously been crying recently, her eyes were still red and she was still sniffing a little, but she was nodding to the doctor and smiled a small smile when she sees Santana waiting for her.

"Everything alright Rach?" Santana asks looking at the diva a little worriedly.

It's the doctor that answers, "Please don't be distressed. It's quite usual for patients to have strong emotional reactions in the early stages of therapy. The best thing you can do is take her home and let her sleep if she wants to."

"Rach?"

"It's okay San, she's right. I just… I just need to sleep for a while."

Santana wastes no time in getting Rachel home and the diva immediately heads off to her room for a nap. Rachel doesn't resurface before Santana decides to call it a night herself so the Latina is a little surprised when she goes in to her room to find Rachel in her bed rather than her own.

"Rach?" she asks quietly, not wanting to wake the girl if she's asleep.

"I couldn't sleep. I hope you don't mind…"

"No, I don't mind Rach."

Santana changes quickly and after a quick visit to her en-suite she climbs in to the bed next to Rachel who quickly curls into her side. It only takes a moment for Santana to realize that Rachel is still crying.

"Rach, what's wrong?"

The diva is quiet for a moment, "It's only a week until…" she takes a breath, "Until the anniversary of the accident." She pauses and swallows even as Santana pulls her closer, "I didn't even realize until I was talking to the therapist."

When Rachel doesn't offer anything further Santana asks "Do you want to do something? We could have a meal, or maybe watch home videos or something?"

"I-I haven't been to see them since the funeral" Rachel finally manages, "but… but I don't think I can go alone."

"We can go together" Santana offers, "If you don't mind my company I mean."

"You'd do that?"

"Of course."

"I think I'd like that." Rachel says.

"I'll make the arrangements tomorrow."


	11. Chapter 11

**Authors Note: **I know I said this wouldn't be posted until after the next chapter of Undying Love on the 28th, but it's ready and unlike Undying Love this story doesn't have a fixed schedule. Plus I'm bored so posting it gives me something to do.

The next chapter of Undying Love will be on the 28th as planned.

Finally this chapter is quite a bit longer than previous ones, I wanted to get the whole of the visit to Lima in one chapter and this is what I ended up with.

* * *

The only request Rachel had when asked for her input on their visit to Lima was that they not stay in the town overnight, she didn't think she was ready for that quite yet. So when Santana went to make the arrangements the next day she sat down and thought about it very carefully before she picked up the phone.

They would fly in to Columbus the previous day where they would stay in a hotel overnight. The next day a hired town car with driver would take them the two hour drive to Lima where they would first stop at Santana's parents' home, if she didn't at least pop in to say hello when she was in town her parents would never hear the end of it, plus a homemade lunch would be nice. She didn't intend to mention to Rachel that her Papi might be able to help with one of Rachel's other problems until she had a chance to speak to him about it.

From there, they would head up to the cemetery where Rachel could take as much time as she needed with her fathers before they headed back to Columbus. Santana was hopeful that the visit would go smoothly, but even if it did she knew that the whole thing was going to be horrible taxing and very emotional for Rachel and she was totally prepared to turn round and come home again if the diva decided that was what she wanted.

Most of the arrangements were reasonably straight forward, and made in her personal assistants name rather than her own. But Santana gave booking a hotel room some considerable thought. She knew Rachel was bound to be very emotional after visiting the cemetery and experience had shown that the diva was very likely to turn up in Santana's bed after a day like that.

The problem was, Santana didn't want to assume that Rachel would want to sleep in the same bed as her so she didn't want to book just one room with a double bed. But if she booked two rooms, the diva might persuade herself that Santana didn't want to be bothered or might be too embarrassed to walk along the hotel corridor. Two adjoining rooms with an internal door might work, except the hotel she wanted to book didn't have any of them available.

So in the end she booked a room with two double beds. If Rachel wanted to sleep alone she could and but there would be plenty of room if she wanted to climb into bed with Santana. The added bonus was that the room was slightly larger than most other rooms and had a sofa in one corner that they could curl up on if they wanted to watch television.

When Santana tried to explain the arrangements to Rachel, the other girl just nodded.

The Latina watches Rachel heads off in the direction of her bedroom for a moment before picking up the phone to call her parents.

* * *

They had only just arrived at the hotel in Columbus and the day had already been pretty much a disaster. For some reason that not even a phone call to Santana's agent had clarified, so many paparazzi had been camped outside the building that morning that the driver almost had to drive through them to get out of the garage. Santana was pretty sure there were one or two flattened feet when they were done, and a rather large grin on her drivers face.

Thankfully when they got to the airport they found the first class lounge to be blessedly quiet which meant they could relax, which was lucky because apparently the pilot had apparently forgotten to show up. The airline representatives claimed a flight he was coming in on had been delayed but Santana was pretty sure he was still curled up in bed and laughing at everyone that was waiting for him.

So they waited hours for another pilot before then finally made it onto the plane only to find it had developed a fault that had to be addressed before they could take off. In the end it had already gone 11pm by the time they turned up at the hotel instead of the early afternoon arrival Santana had originally intended and both girls just wanted to collapse into bed. Santana was just happy she had thought to call the hotel to let them know they'd been delayed.

It took three attempts for Santana to get the damn card reader on the door to accept the plastic key card the receptionist had given her, she could never understand what was wrong with a good old fashioned metal key because in her experience the cards were more trouble than they were worth, but she finally got the door open before she was tempted to kick the damn thing down. She tipped the bellboy who had brought up their bags and headed straight for the en-suite before stripping off her dress and climbing into bed in just her underwear, slipping off her bra when she was safely under the covers. She had been just too tired to dig out her sleepwear tonight.

And now she was laying there with her eyes closed waiting for Rachel to decide where she was going to sleep, climb in to bed and turn off the light. She had heard the girl obviously visiting the en-suite and then some movement which Santana assumes was her changing to whatever she planned to sleep in, and then there was silence. Eventually Santana cracks an eyelid and finds the diva in her silk star spangled pajamas standing in the space between the two beds looking from one to the other with her lower lip trapped between her teeth.

Santana sighs quietly and pulls back the corner of her covers and gestures for Rachel to join her.

"But… but your almost naked" Rachel says, her face turning red.

"I'm wearing more than you the first time we slept together Berry" Santana says, "Just get in the damn bed. I needs to get my beauty sleep."

Rachel mutters something that sounds to Santana like 'no, you don't' but climbs in to the bed and turns off the last remaining light on the cabinet between the two beds. She doesn't curl into Santana's side as she normally did but instead keeps her distance on the other side of the bed from the Latina. She doesn't lie still however as she keeps turning and fidgeting every few moments and even though there is space between them, Santana can feel every movement.

"Rach, if you wanted to sleep alone you'd have climbed slept in the other bed. Quit fidgeting and get over here."

"But…"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm near enough naked. I won't get pissed if you cop a feel." Santana assures the other girl.

A few moments later Rachel curls into Santana's side, her arm over the Latina's waist and her head pillowed on Santana's shoulder. Santana then spends the next few hours trying to ignore the tingling everywhere Rachel presses against her and the feeling of the other girl's warm breath on her skin before finally dozing off to a dream filled sleep.

* * *

Rachel wasn't entirely sure if she was awake or asleep. It was a feeling she knew well ever since Santana had come back into her life, it was the feeling that would cause her to sit still and quiet in the bedroom she still didn't think of fully as her own in case a single movement caused her to wake up. It was the feeling that caused her to climb into bed with Santana some nights, clinging on to the other girl terrified she's wake up and find this was all a dream.

Terrified that she's wake up to find herself alone once more, back in her one room apartment with nothing to look forward and a job that she hated.

But this time the feeling was different and Rachel wasn't sure why. She was leaning towards this being a dream though. She was in a strange yet vaguely familiar bed in a strange yet familiar room but what really persuaded Rachel that this couldn't be real was Santana lying next to her and totally naked from the waist up.

And the fact she currently had a handful of one of Santana's breasts.

It was Rachel had to admit, quite an impressive handful even though she didn't exactly have large hands, despite how many times the very girl in bed with her had called her man-hands when they were still at high school. She lets her fingers slide over the soft skin and watches entranced as the other girl's nipple hardens under the stroke of her thumb. For some reason it didn't feel wrong to be touching the moaning girl this way.

She's just considering sliding her hand down over Santana's impressive abs and smooth stomach to explore under the comforter that covered her from the waist down and discover if the Latina was totally naked or not when Santana speaks.

"Rach?"

Rachel freezes, Santana's voice knocking her out of the half-asleep state that she had been hovering in for the last few minutes to wide awake and she's suddenly aware that she is touching the Latina in a very inappropriate way. She pulls her hand away from Santana's body as if she had been burnt and turns to attempt to scramble off of the bed, not sure where she was going but having to get away from the Latina.

Except Santana's arms have closed around her waist, or maybe they had been there all along and Rachel had just never noticed, and she wasn't about to let go.

"Oh no you don't."

"Let me go Santana!" Rachel demands as she struggles to break free of Santana's grip.

But Santana doesn't let go, instead pulling the struggling girl back until Rachel is suddenly very aware of Santana's naked breasts pressing against her back through only the thin silk of her pajamas.

"No" Santana says firmly, "I know you Rach. If I let you go you'll never sleep in my bed again and I like waking up with you damn it!"

Both girls freeze at exactly the same moment, Santana suddenly realizing she may have said too much in the heat of the moment and Rachel stunned by Santana's admission. Silence falls for a few breaths.

"You do?" Rachel asks in a small voice.

Santana pulls them both back until they are once again lying on the bed, this time with Rachel turned away from Santana but with the Latina's arms still wrapped around Rachel's waist. "I do" she confirms.

"Won't your girlfriend have a problem with that?"

"What girlfriend?" Santana says with a chuckle, "You've lived with me for weeks now, when have you seen me with anyone other than Quinn?"

Rachel shrugs, "I thought if you were seeing another performer, they might be on tour or something. There are all those photos of a redhead and you around the apartment."

It took a moment for Santana to realize who Rachel was talking about and her mood sobered, "That's Elle. Officially she was my personal assistant though most people considered her my handler since she was the one person that could reign in Snix. But to me she was my friend, the one person I could trust totally, the one person who would be honest with me even when I didn't want to hear honesty."

Santana sniffed once before continuing, "She was the one person that wasn't a yes-person, didn't want to be associated with me just for my fame and didn't want to change me to meet some corporate idea of what I should be. She was my friend, she was the sister I never had and I loved her."

It was the most Santana had ever talked about Elle since it had happened and it still hurt, it would still hurt for as long as Santana remembered the flame haired girl and the Latina hoped never to forget her, even if she had to suffer the pain every day for the rest of her life.

Rachel's first thought had been awe. She wanted to meet the girl that could tame Snix because not even Britt had managed to do that back in their high school days. She wanted to meet the girl that Santana talked about with such reverence and care, the girl that Santana had called her sister and proclaimed her love for so easily when Rachel knew how difficult it was for the Latina to let people get that close to her. And then the words Santana had spoken actually registered and Rachel's heart sunk. 'She was.'

The diva rolls over in Santana's arms until they are once more face to face and quietly asks "What happened?"

"She died." Santana is allowing tears to flow unashamedly down her cheeks and doesn't stop her when Rachel reaches up to wipe them away, "It… it…" she starts but even clamping her jaw shut can't stop the sobs from breaking free, "I can't… I can't"

"It's okay" Rachel reassures the Latina, for once pulling her into a hug instead of the other way around, "It's okay, I've got you."

* * *

They leave for Lima about an hour after breakfast both sitting quietly in the back of the rented town car staring out of their windows lost in the memories of those they had loved and lost. Even the driver seems to sense the mood as he hasn't said anything since he held the car doors open for them and his sat-nav system is silent as it displays the most efficient route.

About midway between Columbus and Lima, Rachel's hand reaches out to find Santana's where they rest on the seat between them, fingers linked together, for the remainder of the journey.

They arrive at the Lopez house well before noon even though they had been delayed in traffic leaving Columbus. Santana only releases Rachel's hand long enough for the pair of them to climb out of the car before they link their hands together again and the Latina leads Rachel up the path to the front door. It's always odd having to knock on the door to the house she had lived in for her formative years, especially since most doors opened automatically for her these days, but she had hardly rapped twice before the door was thrown open and she was pulled into the embrace of her mother.

"Santana! It has been so long! What have I told you about visiting more often?" Mrs Lopez gives Santana the once over, "Well at least you're eating properly now by the looks of it" she comments before turning to Rachel and pulling her into a hug as well, "And you must be Rachel, we've heard so much about you! Before and after Santana left for New York."

Rachel's pretty sure that Mrs Lopez just winked at her and that she wasn't supposed to know that Santana talked about her.

"Mami!" Santana says, "I was here only six months ago and I talk to you on Skype every week."

"Modern technology" Mrs Lopez says dismissively, "It's not as good as seeing someone face to face. But where are my manners, come in, come in." She ushers them into the house "I was just about start lunch. Rachel why don't you come and sit in the kitchen and tell me all about New York while Santana goes to speak to her Papi in his office."

Santana had of course warned her parents not to press Rachel about what she had been doing for the last few years, only telling them it had been a hard time for the girl and she didn't really want to talk about it, but Rachel could still talk for hours about New York just like she had when going there had been her dream and so Santana was pretty sure the topic would be safe for the diva. She took the hint and went looking for her Papi and found him exactly where her Mami had said he'd be.

"Hi Papi" she says from the doorway to the small room.

Mr Lopez reaction is more restrained than his wife's but he still gets out of his chair to hug and greet Santana before pulling her into the office and closing the door behind her.

"So what was it you wanted to talk to me about so urgently Mi'ja?" he asks.

Santana gives her father an abridged version of Rachel's situation, explaining about how her fathers died and how the state had intervened locking the Berry estate away in probate and away from Rachel. She didn't tell her father what Rachel had been doing for a living for the past two years, only saying she had had to drop out of school and had, until Santana had found her, been surviving hand to mouth for most of the time since the accident. Santana's father listened intently and nodded throughout.

"And who is this lawyer that is handling the case?" he asked when Santana was done. He grimaced when Santana told him. "This is well out of his area of expertise. I'm sure he can handle a straightforward will without any problems, but it doesn't surprise me that nothing has been resolved even after all this time."

"Can you help her Papi?"

"Not personally, it is also not my area of expertise…" he begins.

"But there must be someone in your practice…" Santana trails off when her father holds up his hand.

"Of course there is and being a partner means I can task him to help your friend. But I will need written permission from her so that we can become involved in the case."

Santana nods, "If you write the letter, I'll get her to sign it."

* * *

Rachel was sitting at the kitchen table watching Mrs Lopez as she bustled around the kitchen. She had offered to help, but the Latina women would have none of it, it was made clear to Rachel that she was a guest in the house and was not expected or required to do anything. So instead she sat and watched and answered questions about New York that she was pretty sure Santana's Mami already knew the answers to. She'd have to if she spent any time talking to Santana and Rachel knew they were still very close.

She took the opportunity of a lull in the conversation to ask a question of her own. "Mrs Lopez, do you know what happened to Elle?"

Rachel had been watching Mrs Lopez closely as she had spoken and so saw that the woman froze almost immediately the name was mentioned. The smile that had graced the older woman's face since they had arrived melted away and she blinked a few times before she turned away from the diva.

"What do you know about Elle?" Mrs Lopez asked quietly.

"Santana said she was officially her personal assistant but more of a friend and a sister. And that she died."

Mrs Lopez nods to herself, "That's all?"

"Yes."

Mrs Lopez seems to wipe her eyes before turning back to Rachel. "Rachel, there are some thing that belong to people, that only they can or should tell and this is one of those things. I hope you understand, but it's not my place to tell you. If my daughter wants you to know she'll tell you but please don't push her, I know what happened still hurts her."

Rachel nods, "Were they more than just friends or sisters?" she asks tentatively.

"No" Mrs Lopez shakes her head, "Sisters is just about the perfect description for the pair of them. They were inseparable more or less from the time they met and let me tell you, Santana did not want a personal assistant one little bit. They did love each other, but they weren't in love if that's what you're asking."

Silence descended in the kitchen as Rachel contemplated what Mrs Lopez had told her while Mrs Lopez returned to bustling around the kitchen to finish preparing lunch. The silence was only broken when Santana returned and dragged Rachel off to speak to her Papi.

* * *

They left shortly after lunch. Rachel had agreed to let Mr Lopez's practice take over her case since she doubted he could do any worse than her current lawyer and signed the papers he had supplied. There had been a very short argument over payment, but Mr Lopez wouldn't hear anything about it. He was doing this as a favor for his daughter and he wouldn't accept a cent from Rachel.

The drive to the cemetery was short, only stopping on the way to pick up some flowers from a local store, and it wasn't long before they were walking along the pathways that lead to the Berry mens graves. Santana had taken the precaution of locating the graves before they had arrived in case Rachel couldn't remember, or had blocked out, where they were but the diva had turned in the correct direction and started walking almost as soon as they had stepped out of the car.

It wasn't long before they were standing before the grave. The Berry men were buried together of course, neither the cemetery nor the Temple had any problem with that and at the time it had occurred to Rachel that it was bizarre that a religious organization had less problems with the two men being together than the supposedly secular state did.

Santana was content to wait for as long as Rachel needed. The diva's tears had started almost as soon as they had arrived but they weren't accompanied by the dramatic sobs and wails Santana had sort of expected, but instead by the occasional quiet sob or whimper. But still Santana stepped up to the other girl and wraps her arm around her waist to offer her support.

"I thought it would be overgrown." Rachel eventually says.

It was a pointless and insignificant observation Rachel knew, but it was the only thing she could think of that she could say that wouldn't cause her to completely break down.

"My Papi came up to clean it up at the weekend so it would be tidy for us and I've signed up with the service here that will keep everything neat and tidy from now on." Santana says.

After some more silence Santana asks "Do you want some privacy to talk to them?"

Rachel shakes her head, "I don't know what to say."

"Do you mind if I say something?" Santana asks. When Rachel shakes her head the Latina turns back to the grave headstone before clearing her throat, "Mr Berry and… umm…"

"Hiram and LeRoy." Rachel interrupts, "They hate… hated Mr Berry. They always said they never knew who someone was talking to when they were both there."

"Hiram and LeRoy." Santana corrects herself, "I don't think we've ever been introduced but my name is Santana Lopez, I used to be in Glee club with your daughter back when we were in High School together. I just wanted you both to know that your daughter is okay and being cared for. She's had a bit of a hard time these last few years and had to struggle through on her own, but I'm sure you would both be proud of how she has managed to survive even with the odds stacked against her."

Santana gives the diva's waist a squeeze. "But she isn't going to have to just survive anymore and she isn't going to be alone. I'm going to help her get back on her feet, get back to school and eventually realize her dreams. I'm going to be there for her for as long as she wants so she won't ever have to be on her own again. I've made those promises to her and now I make them to you two as well. I'm sure some day she's going to be a star but until that happens, I'm going to look after her and even when it does happen I will be there for her."

'Because' Santana adds to herself, 'being a star can be the loneliest life.'

Santana can feel Rachel's body shake against her own as the girl continues to cry and then she feels the diva pull away slightly.

"Santana, can you give me a few minutes?"

"Take as long as you need Rach."

The Latina walks the short distance to sit on a nearby bench and watches as Rachel kneels on the grass in front of her fathers' headstone. She can see the diva is still crying, her body shaking every so often at a particularly violent sob, but she's also talking to her fathers though Santana can't make out what she's saying, not that the diva would want to intrude by overhearing.

She doesn't know how long she waits but it doesn't matter, she would wait for as long as Rachel needed her too. The diva had spent quite some time talking to her fathers and then had sat in apparent silence for even longer only moving now and then to adjust or just touch the flowers they had both placed by the headstone when they had arrived. Santana just waits and watches.

So she's ready when Rachel suddenly calls out her name and just a few moments later she's at the diva's side as the other girl climbs to her feet.

"Can we go now?" Rachel asks rather weakly.

Santana nods, "If you're ready, we can go."

The walk back to the car and the drive back to Columbus took place in pretty much the same silence as the mornings drive to Lima. They ordered room service for dinner and once again Rachel climbed into bed with Santana, both fully clothed in their sleep ware this time.

"Santana, did you mean what you said today?"

"I meant every word Rach" Santana confirms, "but if there's something in particular you're asking about you'll have to be more specific."

"About never leaving me alone." The diva says quietly.

Santana reaches up to push Rachel's hair away from her face so she can look the girl in her eyes. She has a sudden desire to move forward and press her lips against Rachel's but she manages to resist. "Rach, I'll be here for you for as long as you want me to be. Your part of my life now and I'm part of yours, so you're stuck with me. You never need to be alone again."

"I just get so scared that I'll wake up and this has all been a dream. I'm scared that I'll wake up and be back in that one room apartment and working at that club. But the worst part, the thing that scares me the most, is that I'll wake up and be alone again. Everyone leaves me Santana. Finn left me, my mother left me, even my fathers left me and then I had no one, I was so alone and I hated it."

This time Santana does kiss the girl in her arms, she gently presses her lips against the diva's forehead before pulling her closer, "Your fathers didn't leave Rach, I'm sure their still keeping an eye on you. And I promise I'll do everything I can to never leave you. I'll be here whenever you need me."


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** Another update for you. A little sad but, if you'll excuse the expression, a happy ending. Let me know what you think of this chapter and what you think will happen next. I love reading everyone's opinion.

Sections in italics are flashbacks, hopefully that's clear. This is my usual unbeta'd quality, so please excuse any errors.

I've also now made the story available on AO3. Check my Fiction list page on tumblr (link in my profile) for a link

* * *

Rachel started singing again. It happened one morning in Santana's en-suite shower a couple of weeks after they had returned from Lima and it took the Latina quite a while to figure out what was going in since she was still lying in bed recovering from what had happened shortly before the diva started singing.

The night they had returned to New York from Lima, the girls had curled up together on the largest sofa in the living room and ignored the movie they had randomly selected on Netflix. They were both trying to decide how to start a conversation about their sleeping arrangements while at the same time totally oblivious to the fact that the other was obsessing about the same thing.

Santana couldn't think of any way to invite Rachel to sleep with her that didn't sound like she was propositioning the other girl for sex, which granted she wouldn't object to but she was pretty sure Rachel would run a mile if she even got a hint that Santana might be interested in her like that.

Not that Santana's interest in Rachel was purely physical, she actually cared for the little diva more than she would probably like to admit. It had started back when she had first saw Rachel on stage in that club and the days following when the Latina's heart had broken for the girl she had been so sure would be the successful one. Those days had broken open the door to the Latina's heart and every time Rachel climbed into her bed, curled up with her on the sofa, directed those doe eyes or pout at her or walked around in just her underwear, she had managed to work her way deeper into Santana's heart until the thought of not being with Rachel actually hurt.

It was ridiculous given their history and the short time they had lived together, Santana knew that, and yet she couldn't deny the truth and the truth was simple, she was falling head over heels for the diva. And that left Santana with a dilemma. She wanted Rachel in her bed even if they were just sleeping together because not having her there was torture. And yet it was just as bad to have her there and not be able to kiss her or touch her like she wanted to.

Rachel had things a little easier. All she was worried about was overstaying her welcome, she knew Santana liked waking up with her there but she didn't want to spend so many nights in Santana's bed that the Latina would get annoyed with her being there all the time and kick her out. Rachel liked waking up with Santana too and didn't want to be denied the opportunity to do just that. And yes, Rachel had noticed the odd looks Santana sometimes gave her especially when she had just stepped out of the shower or was in the middle of getting changed, but she wasn't sure what those looks meant and didn't want to push her luck and end up being told to stick to her own bed in future.

That night they ended up falling asleep tangled up in each other's arms on the living room sofa and when they woke the next day, bother were suffering from sore backs and cricked necks.

_"Fuck" Santana says as she flexes her back._

_"This couch isn't as comfortable to sleep on as it looks." Rachel observes as she tries to roll over without rolling off of the couch._

_"Why exactly did we sleep here again?" Santana asks_

_"I guess we didn't want to sleep alone?" Rachel offers._

_Santana groans in pain, "Let's just stick to my bed in future, it's a lot more comfortable than this sofa and there is much more space too." Rachel nods and Santana decides to make her point, "As often as you want Rach, okay?"_

_"You won't get annoyed with me if I'm there too often?" Rachel asks quietly into Santana's chest where her face was currently buried._

_Santana chuckles quietly as she plays with a lock of Rachel's hair, "Never."_

So that night Rachel got changed in her own room and then walked next door where she climbed into bed with Santana and curled into the Latina's side. Santana's arms closed automatically around the smaller girl and they both let out a sigh of happiness. Sleep however does not come easily to either of them.

_"San, are you awake?"_

_Rachel asks the question quietly after lying in the other girls arms for what seemed like forever but was, according to the bedside clock, only about three quarters of an hour._

_"No" Santana grumbles then sighs, "yes. Can't sleep either?"_

_Rachel nods and they both lapse into silence again for a while._

_"Tell me something I don't know about you." Rachel says._

_"What?"_

_"Well, you're this big music star now and we haven't seen each other in years before you… well, before you rescued me and even before then we were never really the best of friends. There must be something I don't know about you."_

_Santana seems to consider this for a moment, "Okay, but you have to tell me something too." When Rachel nods, Santana adds "and you go first."_

_"Hey!" Rachel pouts up and Santana but the other girl has shut her eyes to avoid that very action, "Fine." There's a pause as Rachel considers exactly what she should tell Santana. "Well, back in High School, well for most of the time we were in Glee club I guess, I had this massive crush on Quinn. We used to keep having these deep conversations massive subtext, but we always seemed to end up having them in the girl's bathroom or in the corridor outside the choir room. It was really weird"_

_"Do you still like her?" Santana asks tentatively, "Is that why you two fought so badly when she told you about her and Britt?"_

_ Rachel just shook her head, "So, your turn."_

_That was clearly the end of that conversation._

_Santana sighs, "I haven't slept like this with anyone since Elle."_

_Rachel didn't say anything, just looked up questioningly at Santana._

_"No we didn't sleep together sleep together, we just slept together." Santana pauses and considers for a moments, "Which doesn't actually sound any better, but you know what I mean." She smiles at the memory, "I really didn't want a personal assistant, at least not another one since I'd managed to finally train the one I already had. But Snix had a bad habit of turning up at the most inopportune moment and the studio thought that Elle would be able to keep me under control."_

_"So I agreed to meet her just to get the studio off my back and we just clicked immediately. It's like we were instant best friends, I felt like I could tell her anything and you know how difficult that is for me."_

_Rachel just nods, not wanting to interrupt Santana while she's actually talking about the girl that seemed to mean so much to her and not just breaking down in tears._

_"She never actually did the PA thing either, my original one was and is still working for me, but she kept me company and kept me sane and under control, which was all the label was worried about. The first night she stayed over we both ended up crashing on the sofa and yes, we both woke up with sore backs the next day."_

_They bother chuckled a little at that remember the state they were in that morning._

_"I don't even remember how it happened the first time. I guess I may have had too much to drink and we actually ended up at her apartment since it was closer to wherever we'd been. She didn't have two bedrooms though and she told me the next day that when she put me to bed and told me she was going to go sleep on her sofa, I wouldn't let her go. I dragged her into bed with me and we ended up sleeping there. It just became a thing after that. Whenever she stayed over she'd climb into bed with me. I think we both loved just being close to each other."_

_"Tours were different though. She always had the room next to mine and sometimes there were connecting doors. We'd leave the door open or we'd hang out in one of the rooms until we just couldn't stay awake and then we'd just crash in whichever bed we were in. Or the times we had tour buses and we'd share the big room at the back of the bus that was reserved for me."_

_"Someone must have said something to the label though because she got confronted by the management at one point and was accused of actually sleeping with me, and not in the innocent way we had been. They were going to reassign her to another artist but this was just after my second album went triple platinum and I told them if they reassigned her, they wouldn't see another song from me for the rest of my contract. It only specified a duration in the terms and not a number of albums I had to release so I wouldn't be in violation of it. And in the end they backed down. From then on they didn't even bother to book Elle a room, they just assumed she's share with me, which was fine with both of us."_

_Santana sighs as she stares up into the dark, "Sometimes I wonder if I had let her go would she still be alive."_

_"You can't think like that Santana" Rachel says, "I'm sure it wasn't your fault she died."_

_Santana is quiet for a long moment before she responds. "It was my fault. It was at a meet and greet for my third album. One that had been delayed because the host had been ill. Delayed so far after the publicity push for the album that it was really pointless to go. But Elle said we should, someone had won the chance to meet me and it would look bad to my fans if I didn't show up." _

_Santana takes a deep shaky breath and screws her eyes closed to try and forestall the tears she knows are coming. Rachel can feel the Latina's grip tighten on her until Santana is almost clinging on for life itself._

_"It's okay Santana; you don't have to tell me anything else. I understand you're still hurting and I don't want you to feel like you have to explain anything." Rachel offers._

_Santana just shakes her head and continues like Rachel hadn't spoken. "We were done for the day, we were just leaving the building and planning on heading back here to watch a movie or something when someone shouted 'knife'. I looked up and there was this guy coming at me with something bright in his hand and Elle…"_

_Santana pauses for a minute, her chest heaving as she tried to control the sobs that wanted to brake forth, "Elle just stepped in front of me. She didn't even pause, just took a step and…" Santana really didn't know how to explain it. "Then the next second security was there dragging the guy off and someone was calling 911 and Elle just collapsed into my arms. All I can remember is kneeling on the sidewalk with her in my arms and there was blood everywhere. She looked up at me and told me she'd always love me and she's see me later."_

_Santana's whole body shakes as a sob finally breaks free, "And then she died."_

She didn't tell Rachel how she'd screamed at the top of her lungs for help, how she'd pressed her hand over the gaping wound in Elle'e chest to try and stop the bleeding, how she's heard and felt the girl gasp in wonder just before her heart finally stopped beating, how she's carefully laid the redhead down onto the cold New York sidewalk and how it had taken three security guards to hold her back from ripping the scum that had killed Elle to shreds.

She didn't tell Rachel how she'd broken down a few days later at Elle's funeral, how she'd came home and climbed into bed and stayed there for weeks rarely even eating. She didn't tell Rachel how her assistant, desperate after weeks of being barely able to get any response from the Latina, had called the only name she could think of in Santana's phone that might be able to help. She didn't tell Rachel how Britt had dropped everything including quitting the teaching job she'd taken in a dance studio while waiting for her big break to cross the country to be with her, bringing Quinn with her and how both had stayed until they had finally put Santana back together.

More or less.

The studio had been appreciative though, even if their star wasn't back to writing she at least on the way there, and so when Britt had returned to LA they had pulled a few strings and gotten the blonde a lot of auditions she would never have even been offered before. In the end she'd taken LA by storm and ended up with half a dozen offers to pick from, some to dance and others to choreograph.

That night Santana had clung to Rachel like she was a lifeline until she finally cried herself to sleep many hours later.

The next night and pretty much every night after, Rachel climbs into Santana's bed as much for the Latina as for herself. Which is why, on the morning Rachel sings for the first time since Santana rescued her, the pair find themselves waking up in Santana's bed.

Something was different this morning. Santana was used to waking up to the feel of the little diva curled into her side with her head resting on Santana's shoulder or, on a rare occasion, Santana spooning Rachel from behind with her arms wrapped around the smaller girls waist. What she wasn't used to was the diva's full weight resting on top of her and the sudden realization that she was incredibly turned on.

She lay there blinking in confusion until Rachel pushed herself up and looked down at her with the same confused expression she was sure she was wearing herself. Rachel shifts on top of her and the movement causes the diva's thigh, already resting between her legs, to press harder against her. A bolt of arousal shoots through the Latina that makes her gasp out loud and slam her eyes shut but a moment later the weight of the diva is gone and Santana glances around just in time to see Rachel disappear into the shower.

The door clicks closed behind her and Rachel leans against it, panting heavily even though she'd only walked a few steps across the room. She pushes off of the door and crosses to the shower, turning on the water to allow it to heat up before stripping off her top and pants. Cool air hits skin and the diva is suddenly aware of a very damp patch on her thigh. She looks down at the pajama pants she's still holding and spots a matching damp patch right where her thigh had been pressing against Santana.

Santana, who had looked up at the diva like she was about to combust.

She stood there for a moment biting her lip and looking down at the damp patch on her pants before she brought them up to her face and took a cautious sniff. Her eyes slammed shut immediately and a low moan escaped her throat at the smell that was obviously Santana's arousal. It was… indescribable.

Before she knew what she was doing, the pants were dropped to the floor and she had thrown open the en-suite door to find Santana was still lying in bed staring dazedly in her direction. It only took a few steps to cross the bedroom and a few seconds more before Rachel's naked form was once again on top of the other girl.

She deliberately buried her face in Santana's neck, breathing deeply of her sent as she slid her thigh between spread legs until it contacted with the Latina's soaked sleep shorts. Santana bucked and moaned below her, the Latina's hands immediate closing on Rachel's waist before sliding down over her ass as her own thigh automatically rose to slide between Rachel's legs. The diva hadn't even been aware of her own state until a bolt of pure arousal shot through her when contact was made and she gasped into Santana's neck. Her hips rocked of their own accord driving the two girls harder against each other just as Santana's hips rose up to meet hers.

"Fuck Rach…" Santana gasps, almost begging the diva "Please… Please… don't stop!"

Rachel could no longer stop even if she wanted to and she really, really didn't want to. They must have been rubbing up against each other for hours to get into this state and this was just the earth shattering, bed breaking, screaming climax. Hips rocked against hips, searching for that little bit more friction between slick thigh and wet heat. Santana's fingers dug into Rachel's ass as the diva's found Santana's hair.

Moans and groans and curses flew freely until suddenly Santana stiffened, her body arched pressing her thigh hard against the diva's core and the Latina screamed Rachel's name as her orgasm exploded through her. The sudden convulsions of the girl below her and the increase in pressure between her legs were enough to throw Rachel over the edge and into her own body quaking orgasm, but rather than call out she bit down on Santana's neck when the shuddering took her, not breaking skin but definitely leaving a mark.

They lay there for some time, shaking and shuddering and panting while they recovered. But by the time Santana had regained her senses fully, the weight of Rachel had left her and she was once again alone in the bed. The water was running in the shower.

And Rachel was singing.


	13. Chapter 13

**Authors Note: **So this story that was supposed to be reasonably short has gotten a lot longer than intended, but I'm going to stick with it and see where it goes. Hope your all still enjoying...

Edited to fix a continuity error.

* * *

They don't talk about it of course, that would be too easy.

Initially that's Santana's fault, though Rachel does contribute to the situation. A combination of post-coital bliss, the pattering sound of the shower and Rachel's soft (by the time it reached Santana's ears anyway) singing sends the Latina into a deep sleep that even thoughts of a naked Rachel writhing on top of her can't keep her from.

It didn't help that Rachel more or less hid in the en-suite after she was done with her shower. She was trying to work out exactly what had come over her when she had marched out of the small room and more or less threw herself at Santana and she was trying to work out what she was going to say to the other girl as well. However it quickly became clear that any answer other than that it felt like a good idea at the time was going to take longer than she would really like to spend in the bathroom and so Rachel wraps herself in a towel (since her robe is still out in the bedroom), takes a deep breath and opens the bathroom door.

She finds Santana asleep on the bed looking so peaceful and happy that Rachel can't help but smile as she looks down at her. The Latina's arms and legs spread wide over the space as if she'd collapsed exhausted onto it and covers still thrown aside where they had landed when Rachel had thrown them when she had first climbed off of the bed. Her tank top had ridden up to just under her breasts and her shorts had been pushed down low on her hips leaving the space in between the two pieces of cloth naked and exposed to Rachel's gaze.

As tempting as it was to adjust either of those pieces of clothing to allow a more interesting view, Rachel manages to resist.

Rachel cheeks heat up as her gaze continues down to take in the large damp patch between Santana's legs, still dark against the grey of her sleep shorts and the diva is sure she can smell the other girls arousal from where she stands. Her eyes continue down of their own accord to the place where she had been pressed against Santana's thigh, where she had come for the first time in what seemed like so many years, and she feels a twist of arousal wake in her lower abdomen.

Rachel leans gently on the side of the bed, reaching over to pull the covers back over Santana's sleeping form which caused the Latina to shift and mumble in her sleep.

"Mmmm, Rach…"

Rachel's eyes shoot up to Santana's face, the diva temporarily worried that she had disturbed the other girl, but she relaxes when she sees the Latina's eyes still closed and a large smile on her lips.

Santana was dreaming about her?

Rachel chews on her lower lip a little as she secures the covers by tucking them under the edge of the mattress and wonders exactly what Santana is dreaming. She's pretty sure what she would be dreaming right then if she was asleep. She looks down at the girl once more, reaching out to gently stroke her cheek before leaning over to press her lips against Santana's forehead just like the Latina had done to her so many times in the last few weeks. She smiles once more and turns to walk out of the bedroom.

Rachel gets dressed in her room. Initially she goes for the underwear she would normally feel comfortable in, plain white panties and bra, but something makes her pause. Her hand finally lands on a pair of lacy black panties that Santana seems to like, she'd selected them or items like them for Rachel to wear plenty of times in the past month, and she searches out the matching bra, garter belt and stockings while contemplating the implications of Santana's preference for her underwear.

She slips on a dress picked almost totally at random and slips it on, it doesn't really matter what she chooses because nothing in her wardrobe looks bad on her thanks to the fact that Santana picked it all. A pair of pumps is next, wedge heels for a change since they match the dress, and after a quick glance outside she selects a light jacket to go over it all.

She stops in the kitchen to write a note. This will be the first stop Santana makes after she manages to haul herself out of bed, assuming her post orgasm morning routine is the same as her normal one, and Rachel doesn't want the Latina to worry when she realizes the diva isn't around. She's about to stick the post-it to the fridge when she changes her mind and instead attaches it to the handle of the now brewing coffee pot.

Santana might not stop for breakfast, but she will definitely want her morning cup of the dark brown stuff.

Rachel grabs a breakfast bar and a bottle of water before she heads out of the apartment.

* * *

At first Santana thought it had been a dream. There had been two dreams, one before and one after she had actually woken up with Rachel and so it really wasn't a surprise that she assumed what had happened in between was also a dream. It didn't stop her spending some time basking in the afterglow of the dreams though, the images of Rachel writhing under her and screaming her name, the memory of how Rachel had made her scream in pleasure in return and the warmth of two naked bodies so entangled that you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

In fact she's so caught up in the memories that it takes some time before she realizes that Rachel isn't in bed with her. Her immediate thought was that Rachel knew about her dreams, maybe she had moaned the other girls name in her sleep, or maybe not because as she sits up and pulls the covers off of her body the unmistakable smell of her arousal hits her.

She looks down at herself in horror, her shorts were still damp, the darker patch at her crotch unmistakable and she could feel the cold, damp stickiness between her legs. There is no one else in the room, a glance around confirms that, but she still can't stop the heat of embarrassment building in her cheeks. She's gotten so turned on by her dream that she's soaked through her underwear and short, maybe even moaned Rachel's name in her sleep, and probably scared off the girl in the process.

She wonders if Rachel will even be able to look at her in the future.

And then another, even worse thought. Will Rachel even want to live with her anymore?

Some serious damage control is required here and the first places that needs that is herself and her bed. She rolls out of bed and takes only seconds to strip off her clothes and dumping them in the hamper. Her bed sheets don't seem to be marked, but she strips them off anyway and they follow the sleepwear into the hamper. Santana doesn't want to take the risk of having her smell hang around. She'll open the window too, but since she's a little naked right now that can wait until after she's had a shower and gotten dressed.

She heads to the en-suite and turns on the shower but as always it starts cold and she turns to the sink to brush her teeth while she's waiting for it to heat up. Which is the first time that morning that she sees herself in the mirror. At first she doesn't even realize what she's looking at since she's too busy trying to work out what to say to Rachel that will persuade her not to move out and she ends up staring at it blankly before the reality of what she's seeing finally sinks in.

Santana's neck is decorated with a rather large and very red hickey.

She stands there for a long moment open mouthed at the realization that one of her dreams wasn't a dream, that it was very real and that she had sex with Rachel. Her mind shoots back over the dream that wasn't a dream in which Rachel gave her that hickey and her heart skips as she remembers exactly what they had done. What she had done to Rachel, what Rachel had done to her and what she had begged Rachel not to stop doing.

She frowns at herself in the mirror as she tried to work out if what they had actually done counted as sex. They had both come, or at least she assumes Rachel came otherwise the diva had had some sort of epileptic fit on top of her while she was having an orgasm, which would be… unfortunate. But there hadn't been that much in intimate contact, thighs and private places yes, but apart from that…

"Oh God, I grabbed her ass." Santana mutters to herself as she replays that memory one more time.

She eventually has the shower, though that is most accomplished on auto pilot, and dresses in the first comfortable clothes that came to hand when she stepped into her closet. Its only after Santana has knocked on Rachel's bedroom door that she realizes that she's going to have to actually say something to her if she actually answers and somehow 'How was it for you?' didn't seem very appropriate.

But there is no answer and when Santana sticks her head around the door she finds the room empty. The music room, the little office beyond their bedrooms, the bathroom that holds the tub she's learned that Rachel loves soaking in and even the living room are empty. By the time Santana makes it to the kitchen she's a little relieved that she hasn't found the diva because the only thing she can come up with is 'Did you sleep well?' which was only a little better than her first option.

There's coffee in the pot though and Santana mentally thanks Rachel, wherever she is, for that small mercy and almost totally misses the note stuck to the pot handle until her hand closes around it. She reads while she pours and finds that Rachel has gone out for the morning for an unspecified reason and would be back later.

Rachel signs off with 'I hope you slept well' when makes Santana grin.

Santana grabs her coffee and heads off to her music room deciding that she'll not worry about what to say to Rachel when she comes back but will just go with the flow.

* * *

When Rachel had stepped out that morning it hadn't been to put space between herself and Santana, it hadn't even been to clear her head or figure out why what had happened had happened. She had left to work off the excess energy the morning had left her with because she was pretty sure that if she didn't, sooner or later she'd be climbing into Santana's bed for round two.

And maybe round three.

So Rachel wasn't disturbed by what had happened. She had always known she was bisexual so being intimate with another girl wasn't a problem for her. Was she surprised at the events of that morning? Yes. Confused a little by her rather impulsive part in it? Yes. Worried about what it would do to their relationship? Definitely. Scared that Santana might decide it was better for Rachel to move out? Absolutely. But regretting what had happened? Absolutely not.

So her problem isn't what happened, but what happens next and what she wanted to happen next. And at this point in time Rachel doesn't have an answer for that one; there are just too many unknowns. She had no idea what it had actually meant to Santana, was it was just the unconscious expression of an animalistic need or did the girl actually had some feelings for her?

Her own feelings had been thrown into similar confusion. Was she attracted to Santana or was it just an opportunity that she hadn't been able to resist? Did she want Santana to be attracted to her? Was she interested in a future with the Latina, or just a good time in bed? Would she even be able to climb into bed with Santana when the time came that night and would she be disappointed or happy if nothing happened?

Rachel decided that all she could do was wait and see. Take her lead from Santana and try to figure out what they both felt for each other, if anything.

She has been walking randomly since she left the apartment building, taking turns left of right at the end of each block without conscious decision, so when she's done with her musings and actually pays attention to her surroundings she finds she standing outside the administration building of NYADA.

She shrugs, straightens her dress and jacket and steps inside.

* * *

The front door slammed so hard that Santana actually felt it through the insulation of the music room walls. At first she thought maybe someone had broken in, used something to smash down the reinforced front door or even blown it off its hinges in an attempt to gain access, but when she cautiously opened the music room door, all she can hear from the direction of the living room is sobbing. And she's pretty sure that it's Rachel that is crying.

Santana's heart sinks. Was this the result of their tryst of this morning? Was Rachel so upset over it that she'd spent the morning walking around the city in tears? Santana's heart burns at the thought that she has, even unintentionally, caused the diva any pain and she decides right then and there that she'll do whatever is necessary to make Rachel happy again, even if that means never seeing her again except from a distance.

She makes her way to the living room and, after some thought, sits down on the far end of the sofa that Rachel is currently occupying. The diva is curled up against one arm, her whole body shaking from the sobs and Santana thinks that she's never seen her look so small. She wants to reach out, to pull the other girl into her arms, to promise her whatever the hurt that everything is going to be okay, but that might just make things worse.

"Rach?"

Santana's voice sounds pained to herself, doesn't even sound like herself, but Rachel looks up and instead of shrinking away or yelling at her to go away, the diva launches herself at Santana and ends up sobbing in her arms. Santana allows herself a sigh of relief, at least Rachel doesn't want the Latina to stay away from her.

It takes some time to calm Rachel down, but eventually the tears have subsided enough that Santana thinks it safe to find out what's wrong.

"Rach, what's wrong?" she asks kindly.

Rachel sniffs and hiccups a little before answering, "I can't go back."

"Go back where Rach?"

Santana was rather worried that Rachel had been looking at her old apartment or even her job at the club, though why Rachel would think she had to go back eluded Santana since the girl had enough money to live quite happily for a few years.

"NYADA" Rachel explains through the remaining sob, "I can't go back. They won't let me back."

"Why not?"

Rachel takes a deep breath, as if it was going to take a lot of effort to get the following words out. "They don't let you back if you drop out."

"But your parents…" Santana begins.

"It doesn't matter" Rachel cuts her off before she can finish the thought. "There are no exceptions. I can't go back."

Santana is instantly furious. NYADA is the best school for musical theater in New York and Rachel deserved the best, she's good enough to be at the best, hell she was the best. It wasn't like she had much of a choice when she dropped out, and even if she had, she had just suffered the pain of losing both of her parents and no paper pushing bureaucrat had any right to reject Rachel without taking that into consideration.

"We'll see about that." Santana snarls.

She gently disengages herself from the diva and within moments is on her phone ordering her town car to the front of the building. She grabs her purse and jacket and heads towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Rachel asks.

"NYADA" Santana says one hand on the door handle as she looks back at Rachel, "You will be going back to school Rach."


	14. Chapter 14

**Author's Note: **I think the only thing I want to say about this is that I am deliberately not telling you want Santana threatens to get Rachel back into NYADA, you might find that out later.

* * *

"Who gave you the hickey Santana?"

"Santana! Are you seeing someone new?"

"Who's the lucky guy Santana?"

Santana had forgotten what she was wearing, but she was reminded almost as soon as she stepped out of the front door and paparazzi started with their flashes and questions. The clothes she had pulled on were a pair of very tight skinny jeans and a large sloppy sweater that she only ever wore when she was hanging out at home.

It hangs off of one shoulder, which reminds her that she failed to put on a bra that morning, and is currently showcasing the hickey on that side of her neck. There's nothing she can do about it right now though, since any attempt to hide the bruise will just make things worse. The best she can hope for is that they'll let it go but realistically she knows that in a few days' time the new round of magazines to hit the newsstands will all contain pictures of her and her hickey and ridiculous rumors about who gave it to her.

Worse they were probably going to be linking her up with what they considered to be New York or LA's most eligible bachelors or run with the "Mystery Man" story. It wasn't that Santana had kept her sexuality a secret, but she hadn't gone out of her way to advertise it either. She hadn't had a girlfriend since Britt had left for LA and back then she hadn't been famous enough to attract the attention of the paparazzi.

But they don't get in her way and she makes it to her car with only a few steps where James is waiting for instructions.

"We're going to NYADA." She says just loud enough for the nearest photographers to hear.

* * *

The drive to NYADA is short so Santana isn't surprised that they make it there before any paparazzi, but she does very quickly gain the attention of a number of students that were hanging around the main entrance and she can hear them whispering her name to each other. It's not unheard of for NYADA to be visited by a celebrity every so often after all there are plenty of members of its alumni that are famous, but having someone as famous as Santana just turn up off the street one day without any warning is somewhat unusual, especially since Santana has never attended the school.

So by the time Santana has crossed the main entrance hall, had a heated discussion with the receptionist and had gained directions to her destination, she had acquired quite a following of curious students. She almost gets turned around in the old buildings myriad of corridors, but one of the students rather nervously points the correct way and moments later she's standing outside the appropriate office.

She doesn't knock but instead pushes the door open and finds herself in an outer office with someone who is obviously a secretary and obviously waiting for her. The secretary tries to deflect her, but Santana ignores the woman and marches directly across the office and throws open the door to the inner office and steps inside, closing the door behind her while making sure the secretary didn't follow her inside.

"Normally I require my visitors to make an appointment Ms Lopez" Carmen Tibideaux says quietly as she gestures to the chair in front of her desk, "But since you are here and I happen to have a few minutes available, why don't you tell me what caused you to barge into my office much to my secretaries distress?"

"I came to talk to you about a student" Santana says, "Rachel Berry."

Carmen turns to a computer sitting on the end of her desk and spends a few moments with the mouse and keyboard.

"Ex-student I believe" she says, "She dropped out."

"And now she's coming back." Santana says in a tone that brooks no argument.

"I'm sorry but the school has a very clear policy. If a student drops out for any reason, they are ineligible for re-entry."

"Her parents died you know. She was left with nothing and no one to help her. She couldn't have stayed in school even if she wanted to, which she did."

"And I am sorry about her situation but our rules are very specific."

"And you're going to make an exception" Santana says, "because let me tell you what is going to happen if you don't…"

* * *

Santana was lost. It was kind of embarrassing since this wasn't exactly a huge building but somehow she had come out of Carmen's office on the third floor and taken a wrong turn somewhere. With no willing students to show her the right direction she finds she has ended up on what appears to be the fifth floor with no idea how she managed to end up there.

She is too embarrassed now to ask for directions but that didn't seem to matter much as it seemed everyone was in the middle of class and there was no one in the warren of corridors to ask anyway. So she's wandering about hoping to come across a stairwell or elevator that will at least take her to the ground floor and hopefully from there it will be easier to find a way out. Even if she has to go out a window. She's done that before.

Santana turns a corner to find another corridor pretty much like all the others she has seen since leaving Carmen's office. She wanders along the corridor peeking into class rooms through the small windows in closed doors and scanning notice boards as she passes. This corridor seems to form part of the music wing of the school. The rooms on one side of the corridor are small and heavily soundproofed with space only for three or four people while the ones on the other side are larger and just as soundproofed but with enough space in some cases for twenty or thirty people.

It is from the open door of one of these larger rooms at the far end of the corridor that Santana hears music she recognizes. Not just recognises but wrote and sang and took to number one in the charts. She tries to remember if she's ever been told about her songs being licensed to music schools for teaching purposes but nothing comes to mind at the moment, she'll have to remember to ask her assistant about that later.

It's obvious that someone has used some electronic trickery to wipe the vocals from the recording to turn it into an instrumental track that people can sing along with. But the end result isn't as good as the actual instrumental track Santana has in her iPod for rehearsal purposes. She lingers a little just outside the door listening to the girl who is currently singing and, all things considered, doing a pretty good job of it, right up until the really tricky bit that still catches Santana out on occasion, luckily never live… yet.

"No, No, No! That's terrible! You must try harder Madison; I know you can do better than that. Now listen to me." An older voice says.

There are a few moments of silence which turns out to be someone re-cuing the music and it starts up again a few lines before the tricky part. The older voice, Santana assumes it belongs to the class teacher, is pretty good but is more suitable for Broadway classics than current pop songs and she manages fairly well until she hits the tricky part. Granted, the attempt is a lot better than some but it's a lot worse than the female voice that Santana had first heard, but the teacher seems pleased with herself.

"You see what I mean?" she doesn't wait for an answer, "Good, now try again. A capella."

The girl, Madison, tries again and this attempt sounds even better to Santana, much closer to what it is supposed to be, but the teacher still isn't pleased and starts berating the poor girl for not trying hard enough. The Latina steps into the classroom and opens her mouth, interrupting the teacher and singing without accompaniment the few lines that the teacher had sang with the music, happily managing the tricky bit perfectly. The teacher is standing with her back to the door with her class arrayed before her and Santana sees recognition in some of the student's faces but she shakes her head slightly just before the teacher spins around and glares at her.

"And who are you young lady? You aren't supposed to be in this class, are you?"

"Actually no, I'm kind of lost. I was looking for the way out."

"Well don't let us keep you" the teacher replies haughtily, "Your barely adequate singing is having detrimental effects on my students. Shoo, shoo!"

"Actually, I think I did pretty well." Santana says modestly, "Almost as well as the original artist."

That got a few titters from the students who knew who she was, confused looks from the other and a sneer from the teacher.

"Nonsense, Santana Lopez taught me this song herself and you sounded nothing like her!"

"Really?" Santana asks faking an impressed look, "Maybe you can ask her for an autograph for me the next time you see her?"

This time she earns outright laughs from some of the students which in turn earns them a glare from the teacher.

"So, how many of you know what Santana looks like?" the Latina asks. A number of hands go up and Santana picks one at random, "Describe her for us."

"Well, she's about your height, your build, your skin tone, your hair color and" the student appears to think for a moment, "your eye color. She looks pretty much like you actually."

Santana turns to the teacher and sticks her hand out, "Hi, I'm Santana Lopez and you are not only a liar but you suck at singing my songs."

The teacher's face turns red and she seems to be seething and just as Santana thought she was going to explode, she turned on her heel and stomped out of the classroom in a manner that reminds Santana of a certain diva at home. After that most of the class drifted away but Santana asked Madison to stay and together they walk down to main entrance.

"You did really well Madison. Ignore what your teacher said, that song is really tricky. How long have you been practicing it?"

"Um, I've never sung it before today." Madison admitted a little shyly.

"Wow, I wrote it and I was still screwing it up a couple of months later!"

The conversation turned to recording sessions and on an impulse the Latina invited the student to tour the recording studio she used to lay down the tracks for her last album. This led to Santana and Madison stepping out of the main entrance of the building and into a group of hovering paparazzi.

"Who's the girl Santana?"

"Santana, is this your new girlfriend?"

"Is she the one that gave you the hickey?"

Santana just rolls her eyes, puts her arm around the rather nervous looking girl's waist and guides her to the waiting town car.

* * *

"Rach! I'm home!"

Santana doesn't get a response but the television is on in the living room and when Santana steps through the space between the two sofas she finds the diva curled up under a blanket and dozing lightly, her cheeks are still tear stained from earlier and Santana is pretty sure her eyes are puffy and will be all red when she opens them. Santana makes sure she stands well back when she shakes Rachel by the foot, the little diva had surprised her in the past by suddenly sitting bolt upright when woken unexpectedly.

She isn't disappointed. Rachel shots upright, her head intersecting the space Santana's would have been if she had leaned over to shake the diva by the shoulder, the blanket ending up on the far end of the sofa and the diva looking around and blinking in confusion. It takes a minute and Santana repeating her name a few times before Rachel managed to catch up with the fact that the Latina is there and is trying to talk to her.

"Sorry, I must have dozed off" she manages around a massive yawn.

Santana can't help but smile at how cute Rachel looks right at that moment. "Well, wake up Rach because I have some news."

"What is it San?" Rachel asks as she stretches and yawns again.

Santana can't hide the grin from her lips, "Well, there are some conditions but a certain diva I know is going to NYADA in the next school year!"

Silence. Absolute and total silence, so much so that Santana isn't even sure Rachel is breathing and just as the Latina opens her mouth to repeat the news to Rachel, the diva lets out a scream of joy and dives off of the sofa to wrap her arms and legs around Santana's body in a massive, bone crushing hug. Santana's hands automatically go up to support the diva and, because of Rachel's loose skirt, the Latina ends up with two handfuls of ass barely covered by tiny lacy panties and nothing else.

Santana might have involuntarily moaned directly into Rachel's ear.

But she's also stumbling backwards, knocked off balance by the impact of the smaller girl against her body and is paying more attention to the contents of her hands than the direction of her feet and she only realizes she has run out of room when the back of her shins hit the sofa that sits behind her. She manages to somehow twist as she falls so she end up laying along the length of the sofa and Rachel lands on top of her knocking the wind out of her lungs.

When Santana comes to her senses again she finds the diva still sitting astride her, her hands braced on either side of the Latina's head as she pushes herself up and looks down at the girl below her. Santana suddenly has to fight the urge to grind her hips up against Rachel. They are both panting harder than they should be given the activities of the last few moments and Santana hasn't yet moved her hands but Rachel doesn't seem to be in any rush to object. They gaze into each other's eyes, both noticing how dark the others had gotten so very suddenly, and when Rachel glances down to Santana's lips the Latina can't help but dampen them with the tip of her tongue.

Neither of them was sure who made the first move but moments later their lips were crashing together and Santana's fingers were automatically digging into Rachel's ass. The diva gasps and Santana takes advantage of her open mouth, slipping her tongue between Rachel's lips to meet the diva's own tongue where they tussle for supremacy for a few minutes, moving back and forth from one mouth to another before they are forced to separate for lack of oxygen.

Rachel sits upright, grinding down against Santana's hips as she quickly pulls her dress up over her head and tosses it onto the coffee table. Santana just blinks and stares for a while as the diva starts working on pulling the sweater off of the other girl. Rachel is wearing that set of lingerie, the set that had caused her to lose the ability to speak when she had pulled back the curtain in the changing room, the set that Santana has the almost irresistible need to rip from the other girl's body.

"Rach…?" Santana starts.

"Later" Rachel whispers, "We'll talk later."

A moment later she curses as she manages to pull the sweater free and finds herself looking down at the bra-less girl below her but before her fingers can make contact with the soft looking tan skin covering one of those beautiful globes, Santana's hand closes around her wrist and stops her.

"Rach… I need… to know…"

Rachel seems to understand what Santana is asking because she bends over again, her lips pressing against the other girl's for a moment before she whispers against her neck, "I want this." She kisses along Santana's neck, "I've wanted this all day." She kisses her way along Santana's chin and down the other side of her neck, "I wanted to stay in bed all day and fuck you senseless."

Question answered, Santana's arms close around the other girl and it's the work of a moment for her to unhook the little black bra the girl is wearing. Rachel giggles and works the straps free of her arms before tossing the bra away without disengaging her lips from their current task of leaving a second hickey on the side of the Latina's neck to match the one she left that morning.

"Fuck" Santana gasps as Rachel's hands finally make their way to her breasts.

They lose themselves in the kisses and touches, small whimpers, moans and the occasional curse the only soundtrack. Content to touch and be touched wherever naked skin was available. Breasts are squeezed, nipples tweaked, wet open-mouthed kisses are pressed wherever lips could reach and fingernails rake flanks and back. Rachel's hand slides down between their bodies until it finds the button at the waist of Santana's jeans.

"These need to come off."

It's awkward and tricky to pull the jeans off not only because they are so tight but because neither of the girls want to move or stop kissing each other but eventually the jeans are kicked free and Rachel can only consider it a bonus that they've taken the Latina's panties with them leaving the girl entirely naked below her. Rachel slides a thigh between Santana's legs to press against her hot soaked core and is rewarded with a loud groan and fingers digging into her ass as Santana presses up against the diva's thigh.

Her hands on Rachel's ass seem to remind Santana that the other girl is still wearing panties and moments later she has literally ripped the small piece of fabric from the diva's body.

"Hey!" Rachel complains.

"I'll buy you new ones, lots of new ones if I get to rip them off you." Santana mumbles back before she can stop herself.

Rachel blushes but nods then squeaks in surprise as Santana rolls them bother over onto their sides, the diva trapped between Santana and the back of the couch. She reaches down to unhook the garter belt she's wearing, but the Latina's hand stops her.

"Leave it on."

Rachel didn't have a chance to respond as Santana's hand continued its way down her body to slip between her legs. They are both still as the Latina's fingers cup Rachel and they both become aware of the heat and wetness that has gathered there. Santana finishes the hickey she has been working on and moves her lips until she can whisper into Rachel's ear.

"Together."

She only says the one word but Rachel instinctively knows what she means and the diva's hand slips down between their bodies to cup Santana in the same way the Latina is touching her. They both start moving together, both of their hips moving in a synchronized unconscious rhythm, fingers exploring wet folds and little hard nubs, pausing for a moment when one girl did something that caused a loss of concentration on the others part.

It was Rachel that first gasped "Inside" and Santana was only too happy to please, quickly sliding two fingers deep into the diva's entrance. Rachel's body arches as she gasps, pressing the whole length of her against Santana as the diva revels in the delicious stretching feeling between her legs. And then she returns the favor, sliding two fingers into the other girl with no warning and eliciting a moan that would alone have soaked Rachel's panties had she been wearing any.

They both lay still for a moment, adjusting to and savoring the feeling of fingers filling them. It's been a number of years since either of the girls have felt this feeling, have been stretched like this, have felt so close to another human being and it is both familiar and foreign to them, but very, very welcome.

Almost as if it was planned, they both started moving together. Slowly at first, fingers sliding in and out of wet passages making little wet noises accompanied by synchronized moans and groans. Thumbs search for and find little hooded nubs to stroke, press and circle as the two girl's hips grind against each other. A thin layer of sweat covers the naked skin of both girls as their rhythm speeds up, fingers sliding in and out faster, fingers reaching and scissoring inside the girls as they search for that special little spot.

When Santana gasps "More!" Rachel doesn't hesitate to insert a third finger into the Latina who almost immediately seems to shudder against her. Rachel can feel the other girl's walls flutter around her fingers so she thrusts faster, using her own body to push her fingers deeper into Santana until finally she find that spot. It barley takes a touch before the Latina clamps down around Rachel's fingers, her body shuddering where it presses up against the smaller girl and her mouth open in a silent scream of pleasure.

Santana's fingers don't stop moving even though they do lose some of their rhythm but that doesn't matter as the feeling of Santana coming apart around her fingers and against her naked body is enough to push Rachel over the edge. She doesn't shudder and shake like Santana but for a long moment every single muscle in her body seems to tense up solid as waves of pleasure crash through her, her body arched to press even harder against the other girl and her mouth open in a very loud scream.

Eventually both girls relax into boneless messes on the sofa, chests heaving as they try and catch their breath and regain their senses. The last thing Santana remembers before the blackness of sleep takes her is rolling onto her back, pulling Rachel on top of her so the diva's head is pillowed on her breast and covering them both with the throw from the back of the sofa.


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note:** This is a little bit of an angsty chapter but I think it's worth it. For the record, we will get to find out the entry conditions for NYADA, I don't know if you'll ever find out what Santana threatened Carmen with and yes, they will talk. Eventually.

* * *

She's woken hours later by the front door slamming shut and a voice calling out her name. For a moment she's not sure where she is or who the naked body pressing down on her naked body belongs to, but then the memories flood into her mind and she moans quietly. A quick glance confirms Rachel is still sound asleep and Santana can here footsteps making their way down the short corridor from the door. So she does the only thing she can, pulling the throw up to cover both Rachel's head and her exposed breasts. That does mean two pairs of feet and most of the attached shins are sticking out of the far end of the throw, but Santana would rather have that than give someone a free show.

"Santana? Are you home?"

She recognizes the voice this time as her assistant Ashley which is both a relief and a little confusing.

"In the living room." she calls back.

Ashley steps into the living room and it takes a moment for her to find the pair on the sofa. Her eyes trace over the obvious figure lying on top of Santana to the two pairs of feet sticking out from under the end of the throw before finding the clothes abandoned around the sofa.

"Am I interrupting something?" she asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Thankfully nothing other than our nap."

"Hmmm, nap. Sure."

The voices must have disturbed Rachel since she is obviously now awake and slowly crawling up Santana's body to work her head out from underneath the cover. Santana's thankfulness that the diva didn't just throw back the cover is short lived when Rachel's thigh slips between her legs and presses against her core for a moment. Ashley pointedly ignores the moan that slips from Santana's lips.

"What are you doing here anyway, shouldn't you be on holiday?" the Latina demands

Ashley throws herself down on the other sofa and rolls her eyes. "It's hardly a holiday when your boss banishes you from the city for two months."

"San, who is this and why did you banish her?" Rachel asks eyeing the other woman.

"Rachel, this is Ashley my personal assistant. Ashley, this is Rachel." Santana introduces the two.

"So you found her then" Ashley observes.

"Obviously." Santana says before addressing the second half of Rachel's question, "And she was banished because her mother was in hospital very ill and she wouldn't take time off to see her." The Latina glares at her assistant as she continues "What I want to know is why she's back, because she shouldn't be for another week at least."

"Well Moms out of hospital and back on her feet. It'll be a few months till she's her old self but the worst is past." Ashley replies.

"And that still doesn't answer my question, because you could be spending time with your parents while you still can. Not everyone gets two months paid holiday."

"I do appreciate it Santana, don't get me wrong and I wouldn't have been back yet except…" The assistant sighs, "The label called me back."

"Why?" Santana snaps. She had raised hell to get Ashley the time off she needed and everyone had been warned within an inch of their life not to bother the girl.

Ashley eyes the pair on the sofa, noting that the Latina's arms had obviously moved to wrap around Rachel's waist, and stands. "You probably want to get dress again first. I'll go make some coffee. Shout when you're decent."

Ashley wanders into the kitchen and Rachel throws the cover off of their body causing them both to shudder at the sudden coolness on their skins. They both climb up off the Sofa and grab their things. Rachel doesn't bother with her underwear, just pulling her dress on over her head and stuffing her bra and panties under a sofa cushion.

"How do you take your coffee Rachel?" floats through from the kitchen.

As Rachel calls her preferences back, soy milk and no sugar, Santana pulls on her panties and then her large sweater. Since the sweater falls to about midway down her thighs she doesn't bother with her jeans, just tossing them over the back of the sofa before shouting to Ashley that she can come out now. The girl shows up with a small tray Santana didn't even know she had with three mugs on it which she passes out to first Rachel and then Santana.

"Those are some hickey's you've got there Santana, have fun with the cover-up." She smirks.

Santana just throws her a look, "Well?"

Santana can already see the regret in Ashley's eyes before the girl even speaks. "I can't think of a way to break this to you gently Santana, so I'm just going to say it. It's about the case. They need you to testify."

Santana's reply is instant, "No! They said I wouldn't have to. They promised I wouldn't have to. What happened to the open and shut case?" she demands.

The Latina is obviously shaking already and Ashley knows it'll only be moments before she breaks down. She makes a move to sit next to Santana to try and comfort her, but before she can even stand from the sofa she's sitting on, Rachel is already there holding her boss. It's obvious Rachel isn't sure what's going on and Ashley is wondering how much she can say in front of her.

As if reading her mind Santana says "She knows."

Ashley nods, "It seems he's claiming to be Elle's boyfriend, that he was driven out of his mind because you seduced her away from him and he's not responsible for his actions."

"Bullshit! Elle didn't have a boyfriend, not in all the time I knew her. You and I both know that."

"But" Ashley starts a little cautiously, "she did have before you met her."

"Him." Santana says flatly, not really needing confirmation.

Ashley nods before continuing, "And they've found someone on the staff of one of the hotels you stayed at during your last tour that is going to testify that you and Elle slept together in the same room. Only you can testify that nothing ever happened between you two."

"He had a blade with him right there on the street, that's premeditation! It's not like he saw us and attacked us with something he grabbed off of the street! Isn't that enough?"

Ashley shrugs, "The lawyers don't want to take the risk."

There's a long silence as Ashley and Rachel both watch Santana for her reaction. In turn the Latina has her head in both her hands and is apparently sobbing, her body shaking even though she's not making any sound.

Suddenly Santana bolts to her feet, shaking her head from side to side. All she can manage is "I can't" before she bolts from the room.

* * *

"How is she?" Ashley asks.

"Pretty much catatonic as far as I can tell." Rachel says.

Rachel had followed Santana through the apartment and had found her curled up in her bed with the covers up over her head and her sweater discarded on the floor. Rachel had perched on the edge of the bed and ran her hand over where she thought the Latina's back was and whispered reassuring words to her. But it appeared to Rachel that the Latina wasn't even aware, there was no sound and no movement even when Rachel pulled the cover down off of the Latina's head.

Santana's eyes were open but she wasn't looking at anything, just staring blankly into the middle distance without even blinking and her face totally expressionless. She let Rachel touch her, the diva ran her fingers over Santana's cheeks wiping away some of the tears the other girl had loosed, but she didn't respond at all. The effect made Rachel uneasy.

She had thought of climbing into bed behind Santana and holding her until she woke up from whatever stupor she was currently in, but in all honesty she didn't think that would achieve anything or that the Latina would even know she was there. Besides, she needed to find out more about what was going on from Ashley so that she could help Santana when that help was useful.

"Do you think I should call Britt?" Ashley asks.

"What do you mean?"

Ashley looks at her in confusion, "Oh, I thought Santana said you knew."

"Apparently not everything so you better fill me in." When Ashley looks dubious Rachel sighs, "Look, I'm not just some random lay she dragged home for a roll in the hay. Santana saved me from a bad situation, she's been looking after me, even letting me move in here and is helping me get back on my feet." Rachel shrugs "And I don't even know why because the last time we saw each other, back in high school, she absolutely hated me."

"She never hated you." Ashley says suddenly then snaps her mouth shut and looks guilty.

"My point" Rachel said in a tone that indicated they were going to talk about what Ashley had just said at some later time, "is that she's helped me in the last few weeks much more than I can ever hope to pay her back. And now she needs my help and I'm going to be here to help her. But I need to know what's going on."

Ashley looks at Rachel for a long time then sighs, "How much do you know? Just to avoid repeating stuff" she asks. Rachel gives her an outline and then Ashley fills her in on the rest.

"They were close as you said. I never talked to Santana about it but I always thought they had a sexual relationship and honestly I couldn't have cared less, Santana was a different person after she met Elle. She went from depressed, angry and volatile to…" she thinks for a moment for the right word then shrugs, "happy. If they weren't in a relationship like you say, then sisters would be about the best descriptions. They were like twins you know, you couldn't keep them apart if you tried. Not that anyone with half a brain wanted to, except that once when Santana had to threaten to stop working."

"She told me about that." Rachel confirms with a nod.

Ashley nods, "I was with them on the sidewalk, it's my job to make sure everything goes according to plan on visits like that. And frankly Santana scared the hell out of me that day. I mean I get it, she had just held someone she loves as they died, but she went from screaming for help and sobbing over Elle to what I can only describe as a murderous rage like someone flipped a switch. It was lucky the security guards were there to hold her back, which took three of them, or she'd be the one on trial for murder because she looked like she was going to rip him apart with her bare hands."

The assistant stood and started pacing the living room. "When she calmed down from that she went back to what she was like before meeting Elle and I think that was more unsettling because she didn't seem to be grieving for someone she had professed to love."

"Everyone handles death in different ways." Rachel offers.

"But that's the point, she wasn't handling it. It was like it had never happened, like she's never met Elle. She didn't take the photos down or anything, but I don't think she ever looked at them either." Ashley shakes her head as she remembers, "Then we got to the funeral. She had a stuff she wanted to say, I'd helped her write it down so she could remember everything, but when it came time for her to speak she couldn't go up there and in the end I read it for her. She just spent the whole service staring at the casket and then she collapsed at the cemetery. Literally."

Ashley turns towards Rachel, "You have to understand, she hadn't cried a tear since we'd dragged her away from that spot on the sidewalk, it was as if nothing had happened. Right until the first handful of dirt hit the coffin lid. We brought her back here and she went straight to bed and stayed there for weeks just hugging that photo of them she keeps on the bedside cabinet. I couldn't get her to get up and I could hardly get her to eat, she lost so much weight that I started to get really worried so I called the only person I knew who might be able to help."

"Brittany" Rachel guesses.

Ashley nods, "They had broken up before Santana met Elle but they had kept in touch so Britt knew what Elle had meant to her and frankly I didn't know what else to do. She brought Quinn with her and they stayed for months and slowly Santana got better. Sort of. When they finally went back to LA she was up and about. She wasn't singing or writing and she spent a lot of time just staring into space, but was taking care of herself at least. And then, a couple of months later she decided to go looking for you. That was the first time I ever saw her passionate about anything since Elle's death."

Rachel nods, not entirely surprised that Santana had look for someone to reach out to when she'd lost someone she was so attached to. Especially if, as Ashley said, Santana never really hated her.

"So tell me about the trial."

"There's not much more to tell than what you already know." Ashley shrugs, "The guy was remanded without bail thankfully, and Santana was promised it was an open and shut case so she wouldn't have to testify, wouldn't have to re-live whole thing. But he's claiming Elle and he were in a relationship and Santana stole her away from him which made him loose his mind."

"Even so" Rachel says, "It should still be a pretty solid case. He did kill her after all."

"I guess it's the difference between him ending up in a hospital or a cell." Ashley says, "The lawyers don't want to take the risk that he might get away with only a few years under some doctors care." Ashley pauses for a moment as if thinking things over, then she drops down onto a sofa (not the one Santana and Rachel had been using earlier). "That's it really."

Rachel considers her next question carefully, "Why do you think Santana never hated me?"

Ashley suddenly looks uncomfortable, "I really don't think that's something I should talk about Rachel. Obviously you and her are pretty close" Ashley couldn't help smile at Rachel's blush, "But I'm sure you wouldn't want me to share any confidences you trusted me with."

Rachel decides not to push the point.

* * *

"Hi Santana!" Britt's bubbly voice comes down the line and takes Rachel back to her days at high school, "How are you and Rach doing? Getting your sweet lady kisses on yet?"

"Err Britt, it's Rachel here." She didn't have Britt's number so she had borrowed Santana's mobile phone to make the call. That might have been a bad idea.

"Oh! Hi Rach!" Britt's just as bubbly, "How are you and San doing? Getting your sweet lady kisses on yet?"

Apparently it didn't matter all that much, but that was Britt for you.

"San isn't doing so well Britt." Rachel admits, "And I need your advice."

There's a long silence, "Has she gone all quiet and scary again?"

"Yeah Britt." Rachel sighs.

"What happened?"

Rachel explains the situation to the blonde and is surprised when Britt seems to be able to follow everything without any problem.

"I was worried about that" Britt admitted, "A temporary insanity defense was the logical way for his lawyer to get a reduced sentence."

Rachel blinks in surprise but decides not to comment. "What can I do Britt?"

"The most important thing is to make sure she knows your there for her, for whatever she needs whether it's to cry on your shoulder, sleep in your arms or do other things." Britt sounds a little uncomfortable at this point and Rachel makes a questioning noise. The blonde sighs, "Santana has always been a very sexual person and sometimes, when her head gets messed up, it serves as an outlet for her. Something to do with the endorphins from her release I think. You don't need to worry, she won't hurt you, even in that state she's a very gentle lover."

"You slept with her?" Rachel asks and she can't help the spike of jealously in her chest.

"I did." Britt confirms calmly "I wasn't with Quinn back then so it wasn't a problem. I guess if you aren't ready or able to help her like that I could visit New York again."

"But you're with Quinn now!" Rachel almost shouts down the phone.

"Remember Quinn saw the state Santana was in when we got there and it scared both of us. I'm pretty sure she would have done it herself if I hadn't been there. They don't think I know about their sweet lady kisses at Mr Shue's wedding but I do."

"About what?!" Rachel interrupts, she hasn't heard about this before.

"A long story for another time I think Rach. But we'd both do anything for Santana so I don't think it would be a problem, though I would have to ask her obviously."

"Um, let me see what I can do first okay?" Rachel says, "And do you have any more advice?"

"So you are getting your sweet lady kisses on! I'm so happy for you two." Britt sounds really excited so Rachel doesn't correct her, though actually when she thinks about it, Britt is probably right. "Any other advice."

"Well, you can get her to eat when she's in that state but you'll pretty much have to feed her. Sit her up on the bed and start with soup or something similar. She might fight you to begin with or just sit there and not open her mouth, but eventually she'll be hungry enough. And if she's not eating and you're getting worried, don't be scared to lay a guilt trip on her. All I needed to do was sniffle a little and she'd eat, but you might have fake cry a little or something but you're an actress so I don't think it'll be a problem for you. When she starts feeding herself you can start getting her moving. Make her go to the dining room or living room to eat but don't try and force her to talk about anything, just keep telling her you're there when she wants to talk and eventually she will."

They remain on the phone for some time, Britt supplying an impressive amount of advice, and when they eventually hang up, Rachel feels a little less worried.


	16. Chapter 16

**Authors Note: **This was a hard chapter to write and for some may be a hard chapter to read, but don't loose hope. That's all I'm going to say right now.

* * *

Rachel needed a break, she needed to get out of the apartment for a while, which is why she's now climbing up the stairs from a metro station and making her way to Central Park. She had spent the last week looking after Santana, trying to guide the Latina back out of the depression that the news Ashley had brought had sent her into. She didn't begrudge a moment of it though, Santana had done way more for her in the past few weeks than she could ever repay, but she hadn't been out of the apartment at all in the last week and she was used to going out every day even if only for a short walk.

Her days were spent coaxing Santana to eat, trying to get her out of bed for even a few minutes, watching movies and listening to music with the Latina that Rachel didn't know if she was actually paying attention too and promising the Latina that she was willing to listen as soon as Santana was ready to talk. Her nights were spent holding the other girl as she slept and occasionally as she sobbed while clutching the photo of herself and Elle that usually sat on the bedside cabinet.

The one time Rachel had offered the same sort of intimate assistance that Britt had supplied previously, the Latina had said the only sentence Rachel had heard since she had taken to her room.

"I'm not going to use you like that, you're too important…"

Rachel knew that the sentence hadn't been completed, the way Santana had snapped her mouth shut suddenly and turned away had been enough proof of that, but she had been unable to coax anything further out of the other girl.

Ashley had been over at the apartment from early morning until late at night too, looking out for Rachel as much as Rachel had been looking out for Santana. It had been Ashley that suggested that Rachel get some fresh air, take a few hours to relax and do something other than look after the Latina, while she looked after her boss. Rachel had been hesitant at first, but eventually agreed but only because Santana had picked that moment to make the first uncoerced expedition from her bedroom to the kitchen.

As Britt had explained, Santana had pretty much shutdown the first few days not even making any effort to feed herself, but she hadn't fought when Rachel had spooned some soup and later some softer food into her mouth. Day four had seen Santana take the tray from Rachel at both lunch and dinner time and actually feed herself. On days five Rachel had managed to persuade Santana to eat her lunch and dinner in the kitchen with Ashley and herself and on day six she had even managed to get Santana to curl up on a sofa in the living room with her and watch a movie after they had eaten.

But today had been the first day Santana had left her room of her own accord and so Rachel had thought it acceptable that she take a little time for herself. That and going stir crazy and snappy wouldn't help Santana at all. She considered going back to the little park that she had, until recently, spent so much time sitting on a bench in but it had too many links to her past and the thought of going back there felt too much like sliding back into her previous life, even though the park had been her refuge at the time.

So Central Park it was and dressed in one of the dresses Santana had chosen for her during their very first shopping trip together, she didn't feel out of place with all the beautiful people that seemed to populate the most popular park in the city. She was doing her favourite thing, sitting on the bench people watching as the city walked past her, laughing at the kids running around and causing havoc, smiling at the couples so lost in each other that the rest of the world may as well not existed and frowning at the mine that decided not to take the hint and go away until she threated to tell a passing police officer that he was harassing her.

She had only gotten up from her bench to make her way to one of the many food carts near the park to get something to eat when she felt hungry and then she decided to walk. Randomly following paths winding throughout the park with no real destination or desire in mind. Pausing for a few minutes on Bow Bridge to watch the boaters glide past on the water below and grab an ice cream from a nearby vendor, lying on the grass and watched the few clouds that dotted the sky float past and stopping to watch the end of a game of chess even though she had no idea what was going on.

She finds the magazine on a news stand as she leaves the park heading for a nearby metro station to start the short journey back to their apartment to check in on Santana and Ashley. At first she's excited, the magazines are stacked so she can only see half of the cover but Santana's picture and first name jump off of the paper at her. It's the first time she's seen the girl featured on a cover, or at least the first time she's realised who she's looking at, and she's interested in finding out why they put her on the cover.

Rachel waits impatiently in the short queue before the person in the kiosk is ready to serve her. She points at the magazine in question, unable to see its name because of how it was stacked.

"Which one?" the girl serving in the kiosk asks.

"The one with Santana Lopez on the front." Rachel says.

That seems to do the trick because a few moments later she's walking away from the kiosk frowning down at the magazine she's now holding. It's not a magazine she would normally buy, it's not even a magazine she would read if board senseless in the waiting room of a doctor that was currently running an hour late on their appointments. It was the kind of magazine that was full of candid paparazzi snapshots, gossip, rumours and downright lies.

And Santana was on the front cover with her arm around the waist of a slim brunette who the magazine was describing as "Santana's Mystery Girl." Rachel recognised the sweater Santana was wearing in the picture. It was the one she had worn the day she had gone to NYADA to talk to them about letting Rachel back into the school. It was the one she was wearing they day they had…

Rachel blinks back the tears as she looks down at the picture on the front of the magazine, the hickey that she had left on the side of Santana's neck blown up and shown in great detail. NYADA. Santana had met someone at NYADA and then come home and…

And done absolutely nothing wrong.

It strikes Rachel in a sudden moment of clarity. It had been her that had started to entertain feelings about the girl that has basically saved her life. It had been her that morning that had climbed back on top of the still half asleep Latina. It had been her that threw herself at Santana, more or less literally, when she had been given the news about school.

Sure Santana had stopped her for a moment, making sure Rachel wasn't doing it because she thought she was obligated to do so, but the Latina had always been a player even back when she had been with Brittany and she was a star now. She had accepted the offer of what she probably thought was no strings attached sex from a friend, maybe even thought she was helping the diva by doing it, and Rachel now had to accept that the Latina didn't return her fledgling feelings.

Rachel was in the friend's zone.

She wasn't a replacement for Elle, she's pretty sure she's done stuff with and to Santana that Elle never had and they share a history that Santana never had with the girl she considered her sister, but she was a companion for the Latina none the less. Santana probably had girls and boys throwing themselves at her all the time on tour and when she went out and it was inevitable that she'd hook up with some of them and if Santana wanted to hook up with or maybe even have something more with this mystery brunette then Rachel wasn't going to stand in the way of her happiness.

Seeing the Latina with the other girl would hurt of course, she can already feel the fingers or pain closing around her heart. For a moment she seriously thinks about finding her own place, leaving Santana behind and setting out on her own again. The Latina had cared enough about her to make sure she could do that if she ever felt the need and still make it through college. But the thought of being alone without even Santana's friendship was too frightening, too much like a step back into the sort of situation that the Latina had saved her from, that she discarded the idea almost as soon as it occurred.

Besides, she owed Santana so much and brunette or not, the Latina needed someone too and Ashley wasn't going to be enough. It seemed that she had the same skill as Brittany, the ability to drag Santana out of even the worse funk and she couldn't walk out on her right now in her time of need.

She looks down at the magazine in her hands and is surprised to find it crumpled up in her vice like grip. It takes some effort to open her fingers and she takes one last look at Santana and the other girl on the cover and blinks back the tears as she dumps the magazine in a nearby trash can before turning to head home.

She wasn't going to fall apart right here on a New York sidewalk.

* * *

"Santana? Ashley? I'm back." Rachel calls as she closes the apartment door behind her.

"Did you have a good time?" Ashley calls from the living room and Rachel is immediately alert at the forced pleasant tone in the assistant's voice.

"I spent most of the time in Central Park" she says walking through to find Ashley sitting on a sofa and no sign of Santana. "People watching mostly."

Rachel crosses to the sofa opposite Ashley, the one she and Santana had… She mentally shakes herself, she can't think about that right now. Instead she turns her eyes on Santana's assistant. The girl looks torn, as if she's trying to decide between two courses of action that are just as bad as each other.

"Where's Santana?" Rachel asks.

"In her room."

"How is she?"

"Pretty much the same as this morning. She came out at lunch time to eat and she grabbed her laptop. She said she was going to watch something on Netflix."

Obviously Santana wasn't the immediate problem.

"So what's problem?" Rachel asks, "You look like someone threatened to kick your puppy."

Ashley's head drops into her hands. "The label called. The lawyers need Santana in to talk about her testimony by the end of next week at the latest. They want her on the stand early the next week."

That gave them about a week and a half to get Santana back in a fit state to testify. It wasn't impossible, as long as this new news didn't send her catatonic again, but it wasn't going to be easy.

"Have you told her?" Rachel asks. She sighs when Ashley shakes her head, "Okay. Leave it to me."

"You don't have to…" Ashley starts but Rachel can already see the gratitude in the assistant's eyes.

There's no time like the present so Rachel heads down the short corridor to Santana's room, knocking on the door and sticking her head around to door to find Santana sitting on her bed leaning against the headboard with her laptop resting on her knees. The Latina looks up and pats the bed beside her to indicate that Rachel should join her, which the diva does.

"What are you watching?" Rachel asks.

"Thelma and Louise."

A film about two best friends with a rather tragic ending, that figures.

"San, I have some… news."

Rachel's tone must have warned Santana because she closes the laptop, automatically sending it to sleep, and places it on the floor next to the bed before she turns to the other girl expectantly.

"The lawyers want a meeting at the end of next week to talk about you testifying" Rachel says, "with the intention of doing it the week after."

Santana sits motionless for a few moments then nods once before she slips down under the covers and curls into a ball. Rachel kicks off her shoes then slips under the covers, not caring about it made of her dress, to hold the other girl.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks kindly.

Santana shakes her head, "Anything else."

"Sorry?"

"Talk about something else, anything else."

Rachel is relieved that the Latina isn't going catatonic at least. "The day you went to NYADA…" The words escape before she knows what she was saying and she slams her mouth shut before the question can be asked, she does not want to talk about "Mystery Girl" right now.

Or at all really.

"Hmmm?" Santana asks.

Rachel casts about looking for some way to continue the question that didn't involve the photo on the cover of that magazine. And then, thank god, it comes to her.

"You said there were some conditions for me to get back into college?"

"Oh yeah, I guess I should have told you." Santana says, "It's nothing too bad. You have to start from the beginning of second year again, so the fall semester this year. They want full payment of the tuition fees for your remaining years up front and if anyone asks you didn't drop out, you took a year out with their permission because of personal reasons. They don't want anyone else to find out they let someone who dropped out back in, no matter the reason."

"The fee's thing is a little much." Rachel says.

"It's not an issue." Santana says, "Oh, and you have to audition for Carmen in mid-July."

"Mid-July?" Rachel gasps, "That's only a few months away! I need to find a voice coach."

"Talk to Ashley, she should have a list of good ones." Santana suggests.


End file.
